Over Volcanoes 



OR 



THROUGH FRANCE AND SPAIN IN 18 



BY 



A. KINGSMAN. 

7 




v 



LONDON : 

Henry S. King & Co., 65 Cornhill 

1872. 




UmDOH : PRINTED BY 
SPOTT1SWOODE AMU CO., NEW-STREET SQUABS 
A.NT PARLIAMENT STREET 




(AH rights reserved. ) 



TWO LADIES 

WHOSE SKETCHES TAKEN IN SPAIN ARE AS 
FAITHFUL IN THEIR OUTLINE AS IN THEIR COLOURING 

THE HOPE THAT THEY MAY BE INDUCED TO ALLOW THE 
PUBLIC TO SHARE A PLEASURE WHICH HAS BEEN 
HIGHLY VALUED ALREADY BY THEIR 
NUMEROUS FRIENDS. 



PREFACE. 



Last Spring my brother-in-law invited me to go 
with him and another relative to Spain. This 
proposal could not be declined, for he insisted 
upon franking me during the journey, and I knew 
that both of my companions would prove as plea- 
sant abroad as they had been, during many years 
of constant and close intercourse, at home. 

So we started. 

The times were critical. The country on 
whose shores we landed had just been engaged 
in a deadly struggle ; it was in the throes of a new 
Revolution, the second within twelve months, and 
a Civil War had begun. 



vi Preface. 

We found German troops on guard within a 
few miles of the English Channel. The Red 
Flag was flying at Paris over the heroes of the 
International ; and the Tricolour, without the 
Eagles, was at Versailles. 

To this latter rendezvous the ragged, red-legged 
soldiers of the fallen Empire were seen flocking 
in thousands. Poor fellows ! They had been in 
captivity, and now they were returning to la 
belle France with the prospect of effacing the 
memory of many disastrous defeats in the iclat 
of a victory still more disastrous ! 

Moreover, the mysterious assassination of Prim, 
and the recent arrival of el Rey Amadeo, el 
Extrangero, el Hambriento, had given a fresh 
impulse to the chronic anarchy of Spain. 

All this made us thoughtful, and it seemed to 
us that such unusual circumstances had given a 
peculiar and abiding interest to a journey which 



Preface. vii 

in ordinary times might have been but a common- 
place affair. 

So at Seville I was asked to chronicle our 
impressions, and the result is 

' Over Volcanoes.' 

A. KINGSMAN. 

King's Court : 
Feb. 1872. 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

L The Germans in France i 

II. Paris under the Red Flag 6 

III. Two Days before the Fight . . . .11 

IV. Orleans and the Country round it . . .20 
V. Vouvray, Tours, etc. ...... 24 

VI. Bordeaux 31 

VII. Biarritz 38 

VIII. Burgos 44 

IX. Toledo on Good Friday 50 

X. Travelling — 'Dames seules,' etc. . . .56 

XL La Imperial y Coronada Villa . ... 62 

XII. At a < Corrida de Toros ' 66 

XIII, Buen Retiro y el Rey. . . . . .74 

XIV. The Escorial 79 

XV. PUENTE DE ALCOLEA .86 

XVI. Cordova . . . '. . . .93 



x Contents. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XVII. John 101 

XVIII. With John in Seville no 

XIX. San Isidoro and the Italica . . . .118 

XX. Cabrerismo and the Synod of Seville . .123 

XXI. Las dos Corridas — de Toros y de Nosotros . 132 

XXII. A Sunday in Seville 141 

XXIII. On the Guadalquivir 151 

XXIV. Cadiz and Don Emilio Castelar . . .157 
XXV. On the 'Darro' 165 

XXVI. Trafalgar; or, In Remembrance of me . .170 

XXVII. Gibraltar 175 

XXVIII. Malaga 182 

XXIX. From Malaga to Granada 188 

XXX. The Beggars of Spain 196 

XXXI. Granada . . . 206 

XXXII. On the Mediterranean again . . . .215 

XXXIII. Alicante and Nosotros 224 

XXXIV. What the Spaniards think of the English . 232 

XXXV. Valencia; and a Contribution by the Senior 

Partner 240 

XXXVI. Tarragona . 248 

XXXVII. El Conde de Reus, and the State of Spain . 254 

XXXVIII. Barcelona 261 



Contents. xi 

i 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XXXIX. Comparing Notes 270 

XL. Some Specimens of the Modern Poetry of 

Spain . . . . . . . . 279 

XLI. Barcelona, Esparto, etc 290 

XLII. 'The Curse on Hins el Gibel ; ' from Don Juan 

Tenorio . 297 

XLIII. At Gerona 311 

XLIV. Gerona ; a Lady's Diary 316 

XLV. An Experience in the Streets .... 322 

1 

XLVI. Off the Volcanoes 326 

XLVIL The Junior Cashiered ... . . 332 

XLVIII. The Junior Restored. — Conclusion . . . 337 



* 



OVER VOLCANOES. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE GERMANS IX FRANCE. 

I AM (at least in reference to this book) a partner in the 
Firm of Stevens & Co. ; and having been desired to 
record the particulars of a certain journey to France and 
Spain which we had occasion to make in the spring of 
the year 1871, I propose to do so. 

And, first, let me say that we did not visit France 
for the purpose of observing the desolation of Eng- 
land's nearest neighbour. The members of our Firm 
would as soon have thought of going purposely into a 
churchyard to witness the agony of mourners at a 
father's grave. But the truth is that pleasure, which 
was called business, summoned us to Spain, and we 
did not like the prospect of a voyage across the Gulf 
of Gascony. So the road through France was chosen 
necessarily, it being agreed that Paris, then occupied 
by the Commune, must be avoided. We stopped for 

the first night at Amiens, and arriving there at a 

B 



2 



Over Volcanoes. 



late hour were repulsed from three hotels, and fared 
badly at the fourth. Into this matter, however, there 
is no need to enter ; nor would any description of 
such a well-known place as Amiens be acceptable, 
for its appearance has not been much altered by its 
subjection to the Prussians. But of the German troops, 
and their behaviour in the conquered territory, any 
account, however meagre, must possess some interest 
The first sight, then, of these soldiers was had at the 
St. Valery station, where two mounted guard ; at Abbe- 
ville the spiked helmets were present in great force, and 
at Amiens they seemed to be more numerous than ever. 
At the latter place the writer of this book, hereinafter 
called Mr. Kingsman, or the Junior Partner, came into 
collision with them, and was made to feel, not for the 
last time, that they were his masters. 

It happened, then, that Mr. Stevens, on starting for 
the station, left something behind him at the hotel, 
which of course had to be fetched by the Junior, who, 
thinking only of catching the train, was following close 
on the heels of three stalwart field-officers along the 
pavement which leads down to the station. Suddenly 
his rapid course was arrested by two sentries with 
crossed bayonets, and he was given to understand that 
the foot-path was not for him but only for his betters. 
Of course there was no appeal. So, while the Germans 
with rattling swords pursued their way on the flags, the 
Englishman was thrust into the dusty road to get on how 
he could among the horses, the dogs, and the Frenchmen. 

However, this did not much signify, as he was in 



The Germans in France, 



3 



time to catch the train, which indeed had been kept 
waiting for those very dictators whose steps he had not 
been permitted to follow ; and as they, or some other 
Germans, happened to be in a hurry to reach Rouen 
that day, the convoy arrived there an hour and forty 
minutes before it was due according to the time-tables. 

At the Hotel d'Angleterre, to which we drove, a 
sentry kept guard, and the house was so full of Ger- 
mans that the arrival of three Englishmen was regarded 
with no feeling except a languid indifference. In the 
course of time rooms were allotted to us, and we were 
informed that the dinner was at six o'clock. Between 
the hour of our arrival and dinner-time we did what 
everyone else has done in Rouen for many years ; that 
is, we looked at the two cathedrals, the Maid of Orleans, 
&c. But as such a number of people have pursued the 
same plan, and not a few have recorded their proceed- 
ings, any account would be superfluous. The table 
d'hote, however, arranged in novel fashion to suit the 
Teutonic lords, is worth describing. There was, then, 
strictly speaking, no table d'hote at all, that is, there 
was no long table, but only a number of small ones ; and 
the room being empty when we entered, we walked to 
the upper end of it, and took our seats at one of these 
tables. We had no sooner done this than we were taught 
practically the wisdom of a certain well-known parable ; 
for, at the instance of the alarmed waiters who rushed 
in, the travellers began with shame to take the lowest 
place : in other words, they were turned down to the 
last of all the tables. On the last chair of all sat a 



B 2 



4 



Over Volcanoes. 



Frenchman, the only one of that nation who was a 
sojourner in the hotel. Next to us, but of course above 
us, and at another table, sat four infantry subalterns; 
above them, and also at another table, were two cavalry 
officers : all of whom looked the pictures of health and 
hearty enjoyment. These gentlemen had just settled 
themselves when the door opened, and the bowing land- 
lord ushered in a tall handsome man of sixty years, or 
something less. On his entrance everyone, except the 
convives of the imi lecti, rose with great appearance of 
deference, and we discovered that the seats which we 
had presumed to appropriate had been reserved for the 
sole use of General Beltheim ; a colonel, who followed 
him soon afterwards, not venturing to sit with the great 
man, but having a mess to himself. 

It has been already said that there was one French- 
man at the table d'hote, and it should have been added 
that he sat by the Junior Partner ; for this fact mate- 
rially affected our future proceedings, and sent us in a 
direction which had not been contemplated. The poor 
fellow, naturally enough, did not care to talk much, 
especially as his German neighbours were discussing 
Bazaine pretty freely. But he answered all questions 
civilly, although somewhat shortly. 

' Where had Monsieur come from ? ' 

He had just left Paris. 

< Was Paris tranquil ? ' 

A nod of assent replied to this question. 

' Would it remain tranquil ?' 

The answer was a shrug. 



The Germans in France. 



5 



On this occasion, as on many others afterwards, it 
was clear that a Frenchman, usually so voluble, could 
be silent by preference. In fact, there is no doubt that 
there was in this instance, and generally at that time, a 
feeling of resentment against all English visitors for 
coming to be witnesses of the degradation and distress 
of France. However, the fact that a man had just 
arrived from Paris was enough to make me think of 
going there myself. And, in truth, it had become evi- 
dent that the best route to Spain was through the 
French capital still, as it had been in happier times, the 
only alternative which presented itself being a flank 
movement to Mezidon, and a line from Mezidon to Le 
Mans. But to the first of these places, for some reason 
or other, the Germans did not seem inclined to send 
trains just then, and to reach Bordeaux by that route 
would have been very tedious. So the proposal to alter 
the line of march, and to make straight for Paris, was 
duly submitted, and after some discussion in the smok- 
ing-room (where the subalterns still criticised Bazaine), 
the force of the reasons in favour of this proceeding pre- 
vailed. The first train on the next morning, which was 
March 27, carried the travellers towards Paris. 



6 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER II. 

PARIS UNDER THE RED FLAG. 

THAT there was danger in this route the sad events 
which happened so soon afterwards have proved. For 
the troops of Versailles might have attacked at the 
end of March instead of at the end of April, and many 
people think that this ought to have been done. Nor 
was Paris itself the only peril ; there was the journey 
to it also. Soon "after the train left the old capital 
of Normandy, the Prussian sentries were no longer on 
guard at the stations, and it was not easy to see under 
whose protection the carriages travelled. The convoy 
had started from a city swarming with German troops 
of all arms; and it was bound for another city which 
had raised the standard of rebellion against the govern- 
ment of the country whose capital it was. And these 
were not the sole grounds of alarm. The line from Rouen 
to Paris passes the Seine many times, and every bridge 
had been blown up ! The great question was, whether 
the temporary constructions, over which the engine crept 
gingerly, would bear the weight 

There was, then, quite enough doubt as to the result 
of the journey to make us nervous. Moreover, to add 



Paris under the Red Flag. 



to our anxieties, there was with us in the same carriage 
a garrulous inquisitive fellow-countryman — a man with- 
out any tact or good feeling — who had evidently come 
for a day or two into France, and was determined, in 
utter disregard of its inhabitants and their distress, to 
see and hear all he could. Unhappily, some of that 
beaten nation — ladies as well as gentlemen — were thrown 
into his company; but it never seemed to occur to him 
that their misfortunes might have made them sensitive. 

1 Hollo !' cried he from time to time, as he pointed 
to some fine bridge over which the water rippled, 
* there's another. Look there ; there's another bridge 
destroyed — and another. What a fright these French- 
men must have had !' ' And, hollo !' he added, towards 
the end of the journey, 1 here's a lot of houses and a 
station knocked down. What a terrible smashing-up 
there has been here ! By Jove ! there's a fort/ 4 That's 
Mont Valerien/ said a French lady, pointing to a 
hill on the right, and speaking -English, not for the 
first time, and with a purpose, for she naturally wished 
to stop the impertinent Britisher. But her words only 
stirred him up to make further enquiries. Indeed, he 
seemed delighted to find some one w T ho could give him 
accurate information in his own tongue. i Oh, Mont 
Valerien, is it, ma'am ? And who has got Mont Vale- 
rien now — the Prussians, the Tricolors, or the Reds?' 
The lady looked sad ; and the French gentlemen, who 
probably understood English as well as she did, became 
more stern than ever. But the traveller, unabashed, 
pursued his enquiries. We boiled with indignation ; 



s 



Over Volcanoes. 



and one of us at least was meditating an assault on 
our countryman, when the train came to a stop, and 
the door of the carriage was opened. In looked a 
Red Republican, armed to the teeth. And now, if the 
Junior Partner were writing a book of imagination, in 
which poetical justice could be done on all culprits, 
he would of course gibbet this wretched offender. He 
would describe him as having a pea-shooter in his 
pocket, or a volunteer's uniform in his portmanteau, or 
a stripe of red on his trousers. For any of these pecu- 
liarities would certainly have caused his arrest on that 
day, and might, if he had blustered, have consigned 
him to Mazas. But this is not a book of fiction; and as 
a matter of fact nothing was found on any of the travel- 
lers which compromised them, so after a little delay 
they stepped on to the platform of the St. Lazare 
station. 

It was occupied by the 109th Battalion of the National 
Guards, and a more truculent set of ruffians have rarely 
been seen. They were of all ages and all sizes ; of 
both sexes also, for the vivandieres, with very tawdry 
dresses and the feathers of peacocks in their jaunty hats, 
were busily distributing rations. These seemed to con- 
sist chiefly of bread and wine, the latter of which refresh- 
ment was present in great abundance, and was largely 
consumed. The offices usually appropriated to the re- 
gistration of the luggage of passengers served as the 
canteen ; but still the boxes were carried into it, and 
some of them were eyed so wistfully that pillage seemed 
probable. In fact, it was not safe to lose sight of your 



Paris under the Red Flag. 9 



effects for a moment, nor easy to keep them always in 
view. 

Gradually we recovered our nerve, and began, not 
only to look about with interest, but also to comment 
on what we saw. 

'I'm glad that you left your jack-boots at home, 
Kingsman,' cried the Senior. 'If you had worn them on 
this journey, that fellow who overhauled our compart- 
ment would have stopped you, and perhaps us too. I 
wish we had shaved off our beards, we are too much 
like military men by half ; I shall not be surprised 
if we are pressed into the sendee before we get much 
farther/ The idea of the head of our travelling com- 
pany looking like a soldier was a little ludicrous. ' It 
is true,' he continued, ' that I'm a little too fat, and too 
old by a few years ; but then look at that knock-kneed 
fellow with black breeches and black gaiters. He shoul- 
ders his musket bravely ; yet he is older and stouter 
than I am/ The person in question seemed to be a 
man in authority, and his appearance was peculiar. He 
wore, as has already been said, knee-breeches which 
were black, and black gaiters also. His coat was blue, 
with red facings, and his cap of the same colours ; but 
this variety of costume was a feature of the 109th 
Regiment, the only thing necessary being the number 
on the cap. As for the rest, every man seemed to 
suit his taste ; or, perhaps, to speak more closely to 
the truth, he was guided by the contents of his ward- 
robe. Only one field-officer was present ; and his rank 
could be surmised solely from the fact that he wore long 



IO 



Over Volcanoes. 



spurs. In other respects he looked every inch a sailor. 
At all events, he wore the blue Jersey and the naval hat 
of the Solferino. He was a fine handsome young fellow; 
and, in spite of his heterogeneous uniform, no one could 
have mistaken him for a horse-marine. Of course Mr. 
Stevens cut the obvious joke about a man of war ; but 
all such observations will be omitted throughout this 
book. 



Two Days before the Fight. 1 1 



CHAPTER III. 

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE FIGHT. 

Whex the ba^a^e had been received from the officials 
of the Rouen Railway, and rescued from the 109th 
Regiment of National Banditti, its removal from the 
station became a serious question. ' Secure a cab 
directly,' cried our Chief. This seemed obviously the 
right course to pursue, but it was far easier to give 
this order than to execute it. For at the Lazare sta- 
tion on that day there were three cabs only, and all 
of these had been engaged by the troops in gar- 
rison. Of omnibuses there were two, but both of these 
were also engaged, although not by the military. On 
seeing this state of things the Junior made up his mind 
to carry two out of the three portmanteaux somehow 
or other; but the prospect was not a pleasant one, 
for the Orleans terminus must be three miles from 
the spot where the travellers stood, and the day had 
become hot. Happily, however, there was no hurry, 
as the train by which we intended to travel did not 
start for four hours. In the course of that time some 
cabs might drive in, or something else might turn 
up, The only tiling required was patience. But great 



12 



Over Volcanoes. 



as Mr. Stevens is in many ways, he does not excel in 
patience, and on this occasion nervousness made him 
more fussy than usual. 'Kingsman/ cried he, 'why 
don't you get us a cab? If our luggage stays here five 
minutes longer that knock-kneed fellow in black smalls 
will help himself, I feel sure. He has been looking at 
the portmanteaux for the last half-hour most covetously. 
He sees my things would fit him/ 

Five minutes only had elapsed since the baggage was 
ready, but under certain circumstances moments seem 
to be hours. 

1 If there are no cabs here/ continued the Senior, 'go 
into the street and find one/ 

I glanced towards the gateway of the terminus, and 
saw half a dozen hungry-looking fellows in blouses. 
The prospect was not encouraging. Perhaps under the 
Red regime it might be high treason to go about in a 
cab. Perhaps the men in blouses might have secured 
the monopoly of carrying luggage. But then if they 
once got possession of it, where would they carry it ? 
And if they did appropriate anything, where was redress 
to be had ? 

' What are you waiting for, Kingsman V shouted Mr. 
Stevens. 1 We shall be kept here all day and miss the 
train. Do something at all events, and pray be quick 
about it. I wish I could speak French/ The case was 
serious, and seemed likely to be complicated by a quarrel, 
but before a retort could be hurled back, a cabman came 
forward and made a speech to one of the omnibus drivers. 
He said it was no doubt true that he, who was the con- 



Two Days before the Fight. 1 3 

ductor of the omnibus, had to go to the Lyons station, 
and also true that the Englishman with the red face 
wanted to get to the Orleans terminus. He had heard 
all this, but what did it signify ? The two stations were 
close to each other, as everyone knew. The conductor 
could go to the Boulevard Mazas first, and to the Boule- 
vard de l'Hopital afterwards. The Englishmen really 
were not in a hurry, although the hot-faced man was 
in a fuss. But he need not be, there was plenty of time. 
And there would be plenty of pay, for Englishmen 
would give anything rather than carry their trunks, or 
even themselves, and all Englishmen were rich. Besides 
one was frightened, and the other two were getting 
angry, and in short the omnibus man might do what he 
liked ; he, the cabman only wished that he could give 
his military friends (sacre) the slip, and get such a chance 
himself. 

There was so much truth in the harangue as a whole, 
and it came in so opportunely, that I did not venture 
to question any part of it. It is true that the Senior 
insisted on knowing the fare, and said that he should 
prefer a cab to the omnibus. But the Cashier, who 
could take liberties with him, cut short his remarks, and 
the two soon found themselves inside the vehicle with 
any number of French peasants, I was glad to escape 
any further discussion, so I mounted the box and took 
my place by the driver. 

'Montmartre is close to St. Lazare, is it not?' said 
I, opening the conversation as soon as the omnibus was 
in the street. 



Over Volcanoes. 



'Just above us now at this moment, Monsieur/ replied 
the driver. 

' Citizen, if you please/ I returned, 1 and not Monsieur. 
There are no Messieurs in France now, and least of ail 
in Paris.' 

' Ay,' rejoined the driver. t My faith, citizen or Mon- 
sieur, we must still work hard and be civil, that is, unless 
one can get into command at the Hotel de Ville. But 
Monsieur is right, we are just under the guns of Mont- 
martre, and the 109th Battalion of the National Guards 
holds the station of St. Lazare, and we must do what 
they tell us now/ 

' Not many people are travelling from Rouen to Paris ?' 
I said. 

' Alas ! Monsieur, very few indeed/ answered the 
omnibus man. ' There is little or no traffic, and who 
knows what will come at last ? Things are as bad, or 
will be, as they were during the siege.' 

' You were here during the siege then, my friend ? 5 
asked I. 

( Where else could I be, Monsieur ?' replied the driver. 
' A thousand thunders, that was dreadful ! ' 

' Would Monsieur the omnibus man explain himself? 1 
The omnibus man would do so. Pie had eaten dog-s 

o 

and cats, and rats and mice, and such black bread — 
such a little of it too. 1 Ah ! mon Dien ! ' 

'And was your horse with you during the siege?' 
enquired I. 

' Ah, poor Victorine ! she was.' 

1 How did she escape then ? ' 



Two Days before the Fight 1 5 

' Why, she worked an ambulance, Monsieur, and that 
saved her life/ 

Just at that moment a little wiry terrier, rather lean 
and ill-favoured, peeped out from between the legs of the 
driver, and licked the hand which at once caressed him 
kindly. 

' Your dog was not in the siege — you have bought 
him, no doubt, since V 

' No/ replied the driver, ' I have had him eight years, 
that is ever since he was born. He and the gray mare 
Victorine are my only friends, Monsieur/ 

' How then did the dog escape when everything was 
eaten ? ' 

i Well, Monsieur, he is not only a good dog, but he is 
a wise dog. He knew that I loved him, and that I 
could not do without him, so he kept out of the way at 
first, and then he grew to be so lean and so mangy that 
no one fancied eating him. My faith, too, there was 
good reason why he should be in bad condition, for he 
did fare hard ; but then he fared no harder than I fared, 
and the good God (if there be a God) kept us both. 
At all events, he was kept, and here we are/ 

' What is that building V 

- Does not Monsieur know the Madeleine ? ' returned 
the driver ; i but it does look strange without a single 
soul going up or down its long flight of steps. It's not 
like itself now, with the red flag flying all about it, but 
it is the Madeleine/ 

' Has it been ransacked ? ' 

* Not yet ; but it will be before long, and I don't say 



1 6 Over Volcanoes. 

that queer things will be found there, but queer things 
will be found in the convents, Monsieur. Priests and 
nuns are human creatures ; and human creatures, you 
know, have certain instincts with respect to their species, 
Monsieur/ 

The omnibus was passing through the Boulevard des 
Italiens by this time, and the grand street really looked 
much the same as usual No private carriages were 
to be seen, it is true, but plenty of omnibuses and 
cabs and carts. The shops were all open and ap- 
peared to be doing a good business, especially those 
in which provisions were sold. The Acrobats were 
performing as though no mischief were going on, and 
altogether the city wore a gay and prosperous air. 
There was, however, an ugly hum of angry multitudes 
on the wind, and the omnibus was nearing every mo- 
ment the spot from which it emanated. This was the 
Place Vendome, where the column — still standing then 
— was encompassed with soldiers. We did not enter 
the Grand Square — probably, this would not have been 
permitted — and I had no opportunity of estimating the 
numbers there collected ; but a colonel of English artil- 
lery whom we afterwards met in Spain, an officer of 
high distinction, who had run up from Gibraltar for the 
purpose of observing the revolutionary movement, laid 
them at six thousand. Of course they were all National 
Guards, and they must have found the nights of March 
rather cold for a bivouac. But what will not enthusiasm 
do and suffer ! 

' There, Monsieur, is a barricade,' said the driver, as 



Two Days before the Fight. 



17 



a mass of stones and rubbish was passed at right angles. 
' It's dismantled now, but the cannon can be there again 
when they are wanted.' 

Soon after this the omnibus went through another — a 
narrow road having been opened for the traffic. In 
the meantime the gardens of the Tuileries had been 
passed, and I just had a peep at the Cavalry huts 
which were built during the siege. Over the great gate 
of the Louvre stared the words, ' Liberte, Egalite, Fra- 
ternite,' and there was also a statement that the building 
was National Property. 

' There's another barricade,' cried the driver; ' and now 
you may see from whence the cannon will come, to arm 
these fortresses of the people, for here is the Hotel de 
Ville.' 

In front of this doomed building, over which red 
flags were flying in all directions, eighty pieces of 
artillery, including some mitrailleuses, were drawn up 
close to each other. The whole of the open space 
was crowded with troops, and towards it the various 
recruits, in blouses, which were picked up by parties of 
National Guards, detached for that purpose, seemed to 
be converging. 

After this, the omnibus passed through another barri- 
cade, and soon came to the Place de la Bastille. The 
Column was covered with immortelles ; and it was observ- 
able that here, and here only, the tricolour, in honour of 
a previous revolution, was permitted to mingle with the 
red flag of the Commune. 

( There is the new Bastille,' said the driver, pointing 

c 



iS 



Over Volcanoes. 



to the prison of Mazas, and he added, ' Under Napoleon 
it was not much better than the old Bastille of those 
cursed Bourbons. But., [Monsieur,' he continued, 1 we can't 
get rid of tyrants in France ; and it's my belief that 
Rossel 1 and Cluseret and Assi will be as bad as any of 
the rest. They are sending men even' dav to Plazas 
already. But here is the Lyons Gare, and we must stay 
here a little/ 

Accordingly the French peasants disembarked. Very 
dreary., in comparison with its appearance in old times, 
looked the refreshment-room ; very small the bustle 
amongst the porters in blouses ; very little pushing was 
there at the office where the tickets are delivered. Still 
some trafnc was going on, and probably enough money 
came in to meet the requisitions of the Finance Minister 
at the Hotel de Mile. 

After a while the omnibus moved on to the Boulevard 
de l'Hopital, and there the course ended. It was a ride 
much to be remembered ; such a ride as few people have 
taken under similar circumstances ; such a ride as Ste- 
vens & Co. will never take again. The Tuileries, the 
Louvre, the Hotel de Yille, all beautiful as ever, and lit 
up by the bright sunshine of spring, were there ; but 
all were dominated bv the Red Flag, and seriously en- 
dangered by their temporary connection with its sinister 
fortunes. For carrying us and our luggage, the good- 
humoured, cheery driver charged only six francs. The 
Cashier paid this at once, and just then he would have 
paid three times as much with equal cheerfulness. To 
1 He wronged Rossel, as others did afterwards to the death." 



Two Days before the Fight. 



19 



it I added another franc on my own account, and a cor- 
dial shake of the hand, which was evidently valued and 
frankly returned. What has become now of the grey 
mare Victorine, and the win* terrier, and the chatty 
driver? Who knows? Perhaps the man may still be 
found at the St. Lazare station. Perhaps his was one of 
the 50,000 corpses which lay in the streets of Paris during 
the last days of May. At all events, in the midst of his 
own distress and manifold anxieties, he was kind to a 
stranger, and did not attempt to cheat him, although 
he might have done so with ease and impunity. So, 
whether he be alive or dead, may God bless him ! It 
need only be added that we forgot our past troubles 
and little differences over the good fare which the 
waiters of the refreshment-room at the Orleans station 
set before us. 

This happened on Thursday, and the fighting, which 
ended in such frightful carnage on May 29, began on the 
following Saturday ! 



20 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER IV. 

ORLEANS AND THE COUNTRY ROUND IT. 

' I WISH,' said Mr. Stevens, 1 that some persons in 
England could see with their own eyes a few of the sad 
sights which we have witnessed during the last three 
days in France.' 

These words were spoken at Orleans, as we sat 
watching the removal of the manure which lay three 
inches thick on the boulevards of that place. At 
first sight it seemed part of the ground, for it had 
been trodden in hard, first by French, then by German, 
again by French, and again by German cavalry. But 
it was dung, and very costly dung too. It was sad to 
witness the operation of digging it up, and to ob- 
serve that manv of the trees had been barked by the 
hungry horses, and would probably die, in spite of the 
tarred bandages which had been applied to their trunks 
by those who knew the value of shade in the sultry days 
of the coming summer. 

Mr. Stevens proceeded with his talk. 

' We have seen railway-bridges and road-bridges blown 
up indiscriminately and in all directions. We have seen 
stations and whole villages knocked to pieces, park 



Orleans and the Country round it. 21 



walls pierced for musketry, factory chimneys riddled 
with shot and shell, and men and women in mourning 
everywhere.' 

1 Yes/ said the Cashier. 'It is an exhibition of uni- 
versal ruin, and perhaps still worse things are to come ; 
for, of all wars, civil war is the most fearful.' 

' Well, then/ continued the Senior, 1 1 wish that some 
persons whom I could mention were here. They would 
not clamour any longer for war, I should think. 

1 If I could only show them Orleans and its neigh- 
bourhood as it is now, I should be contented. I 
should say, " Look at the destruction which war has 
caused here. Come with me to the Railway Sta- 
tion, and see one set of vans filled with the bones of 
horses, which were picked up on the foul-smelling battle- 
fields by St. Ay ; and another set packed with hides 
from that forest in which the Loire Army lurked. Or 
turn your eyes towards the Loire itself ; look up or down 
the river, which you like, and mark the devastation 
which is there. It is true that the bridge which leads 
from the Rue Royale is standing ; but what is the fate 
of the rest ? It is the same with them as with those 
which crossed the Seine. Look ! Over some fragments 
of shapeless, crumbling masonry, in the centre of 
the stream, the troubled waters are rolling. Seven 
months ago a handsome bridge was there — a bridge 
which had been built when France was at peace — and 
the structure afforded accommodation and pleasure to 
hundreds everv dav. But now the arches on each bank 
onlv are entire, and a ferrv-boat carries the diminished 



22 



Over Volcanoes. 



traffic between Meung, Beaugency, and Lailly. 1 Ask 
anyone you like what is the state of trade, and what 
are the prospects of taxation. Or try to estimate the 
expenditure which will be needed in restorations before 
France is what she was/' Having shown them all this, 
I would ask them, " Do you want England to go to 
war now ? " ' 

' But,' said I, s wretched as are the effects of quarrels 
between great nations, I suppose that they will take 
place from time to time, and that, when they do occur, 
battles, with all their accompanying horrors, must be 
the result, and decide the business.' 

The Senior shook his head sadly ; but the Cashier 
took up the question at once. 

' Quarrels,' he said, ' there must be, no doubt ; but as 
to the necessity for war, I am not so sure. Indeed, to 
speak frankly, I think such barbarous outbreaks might 
be, and ought to be, avoided by civilised beings.' 

The Senior again shook his head. 

'You would ask me, I see,' continued the Cashier, 
1 what are the grounds for this opinion of mine. I 
will tell you. When I was at Harton, a fight with fists 

1 The mischief actually done is as follows, the writer of the account being 
an intelligent Frenchman residing at Tours; the statement is given in 
his own English : ' We have had many bridges blown up during the war, 
especially by our Generals, to prevent the enemy advancing too rapidly. 
The principal are on the Loire — Amboise, Blois, Chaumont, Port Bouler, 
Langeais (these three are suspension-bridges). The stone bridge of 
Tours was mined, but was saved. The railway-bridges destroyed are far 
more numerous. There are several on the river Seine ; three on the Loire — 
Mont Louis, Saint Come, and Cinq-Mars ; three or four also on the small 
river Loir, passing through Vendome, Chateaudun, and near Le Mans. 
The beautiful viaduct of Beaugency was blown up. ' 



Orleans and the Country round it 



23 



was a common event, and occasionally a boy was killed ; 
now a set-to is almost unknown at any school. Then, 
also, challenges to fight duels were sent, even by under- 
graduates at college ; but now duelling is treated as 
murder, and it is consequently unheard of, even in the 
army. Again, the length of wars has diminished of late 
years ; and that which has been curtailed may possibly 
be cut short entirely/ 

' But,' retorted the Senior, 1 Scripture says, " that in 
the last days there will be wars and rumours of wars." ' 

'And,' replied the Cashier, ' Scripture also says, " He 
maketh wars to cease in all the world;' 



24 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER V. 

VOUVRAY, TOURS, ETC. 

' I AM very glad to have seen this place/ exclaimed the 
Cashier, as the train left the Vouvray station, which is 
six miles from Tours. 

1 Why ? ' enquired the Senior. ' It seemed rather a 
dreary, dusty spot, and the country around was flat and 
uninteresting. But I should have liked to stop at Blois 
and Amboise, I must confess.' 

* Both of them, no doubt, are a thousand times more 
picturesque than Vouvray, which was dull enough/ re- 
plied the Cashier ; ' but I was glad to find that such a 
place as Vouvray existed. For I sometimes dine with a 
man whom you know, Mr. Bestmarket, at Ironham, and 
he makes me drink his cheap champagne/ 

' Is it very bad ? ' asked the Senior, feelingly. 

' On the contrary/ answered the Cashier, * I could not 
help admitting to myself that it was good ; but he called 
it Vouvray, and he told me that it came from Lewes, in 
Sussex. Now I did not like to make any enquiries, but 
I thought that Vouvray might be the name of a village 
in that county, where rhubarb or gooseberries abounded. 
I assure you/ the Cashier continued, i I am very glad to 



Vouvray, Totirs, etc. 



25 



be better informed on this point, and especially to see 
such extensive vineyards as we have passed through 
during the last hour/ 

' There is no reason/ said the Senior, ' why people 
should not make as good wine in Touraine as in Cham- 
pagne, if they know the art. It is an affair of chemistry, 
after all.' 

' Except,' suggested the Cashier, 1 that there ought to 
be some juice of the grape as a foundation.' 

' That certainly is desirable,' said the Senior, i but 
perhaps not indispensable. I never heard of vineyards 
in Hamburg, but that place sends us some sherry.' 

1 Well,' continued the Cashier, ' we will try the 
Vouvray at Tours, that is, if we can get any there ; for 
it often happens that an article is most scarce in the 
neighbourhood from which it comes.' 

We were not disappointed in this matter. M. D 

had some excellent Vouvray, to which, after seeing the 
house of Tristan l'Hermite and the ruins of Plessis-les- 
Tours, the three Partners did justice. Moreover, they 
found that the landlord was a wine-merchant, and, as 
he spoke English, Mr. Stevens was soon engaged in a 
conversation on business, which ended in an order for 
Vouvray. 

'And now,' said M. D , ' that we have settled 

about the quality, and the price, and the quantity, let 
me recommend you, gentlemen, to get it into England 
at once.' 

' By all means,' replied Mr. Stevens ; ' but why is there 
such a hurry ? We are going on to Spain. You don't 



26 



Over Volcanoes, 



expect to have the Germans here once more, do 
you ? 9 

' No, sir/ said the landlord of the ' Univers ' ; ' I hope 
that I may never again see the Uhlans and the spiked 
helmets coming over our bridge, and making themselves 
at home in our beautiful market-place ; but the bill for 
this war has to be paid, and, in my opinion, a large part 
of it will come out of the wine trade/ 

' With your permission/ suggested M. D , ' we 

will talk this matter over quietly, whilst we are drinking 
a bottle of Vouvray, which you will permit me to offer 
you, I hope.' 

To this proposal we agreed ; the wine was produced, 
and the conversation began. 

'Gentlemen/ said M. D , 'the amount of money 

which France will have to pay is enormous. First, there 
are her own war expenses, which are not light, I can 
assure you ; and then there is the repairing of all that 
damage which you in your journey must have* observed. 
But this is comparatively nothing. We are keeping up 
armies of Germans at Amiens, Rouen, Rheims, etc., 
for all of which we have to provide. Then there is 
the civil war, of which no one can see the end. We 
must lay heavy taxation on everything, and, above all, on 
wine/ 

'But/ interposed the Cashier, 'can you induce us to 
pay the export duty ? — for, of course, it will fall on the 
consumers. I am not sure that we should have been in- 
clined to give ten shillings a dozen for your Vouvray 
beyond its present price.' 



Vouvray, Tours, etc. 



27 



' Yes, sir, you would/ returned M. D . ' Champagne, 

like every other luxury, becomes a necessity when it has 
once been tasted. Besides, you ought to be fined, for 
you could have stopped the war.' 

'What! England by herself?' exclaimed the three 
Partners. 

'Yes, gentlemen, "England by herself." You don't 
know what weight England has in the world when she 
speaks and acts firmly. I only wish I was an English- 
man.' 

1 I see,' said the Cashier, 'the time has come for me to 
finish the subject which we were discussing at Orleans, 
and I shall be glad to do so in the presence of a gentle- 
man who has experienced the horrors of war.' 

'I think, then,' he continued, 4 that England alone- 
could not put a stop, in this case, nor generally, to the 
barbarism of ravaging countries, and slaying human 

creatures by thousands ; but a Bund (if M, D will 

excuse me for using a German word) might do this. I 
would then invite every free nation to become a member 
of a League, pledged to submit any quarrel, however 
personal, to the Council of the Bund, and to abide by 
the decision of that body.' 

' But/ suggested the Senior, ; whilst such a Council 
was meeting and deliberating, your Xapoleons and 
Bismarcks would be overrunning the threatened country.' 

'Possibly this might be the case just at first,' rejoined 
the Cashier, ' but they would pay so dearly for this con- 
duct in the end, that they would not be very ready to 
repeat the experiment.' 



28 



Over Volcanoes. 



' But why should Monsieur confine his League to free 

countries ? ' asked M. D ; ' for I am afraid that 

poor France would not long be a member in that case, 
nor Russia, nor even Germany/ 

' Germany is far more free than most people suppose/ 
rejoined the Cashier ; ' and if anyone imagines that 
Prince Bismarck, or the Emperor-King, could bring 
Saxony, Bavaria, and Wurtemberg, or even Prussia, 
into the field to back a purely Hohenzollern quarrel, 
he is much mistaken. But I would only have free 
countries in the Bund, because they are the only 
nations which can remain at peace long/ 

' Pray explain/ said M. D . 

i A standing army/ replied the Cashier, 1 is a necessity 
of a despotic power ; and the larger a standing army is, 
the sooner must war come, and the surer too/ 

' I dare say that there is some reason for this opinion, 
but I dont see it/ said Mr. Stevens. 

1 The reason is plain/ continued the Cashier. ' I 
myself am a man as averse to war as anyone can be. 
But if I, unfortunately, had been born a Napoleon or 
a Romanoff, I should have been a hunter of men sooner 
or later to a certainty. For by the time I was twenty- 
five, or probably before, I should have exhausted all 
the ordinary and natural pleasures of life, after w r hich 
I, being a man living to find pleasurable excitement, 
should be on the look-out for some new sensation. 
And if I had been born a prince, I should have 
been a colonel at tw r elve, a general at twenty, and a 
field-marshal at twenty-five. So I should have worn 



Vonvray, Tours, etc. 



29 



a red coat with orders on the breast, and a becoming 
hat, with a cock's tail on the top of it. Now, of all 
this nonsense, if I had never been a real soldier, I 
should have felt ashamed. Then such men as D'Au- 
relle de Paladines and Chanzy would have come to 
my court, dressed very much like myself, and wear- 
ing their decorations, which they at leasf would have 
done something to earn. And then I should have said 
to myself, " Sir Prince, Sir General, Sir Field-Marshal, 
at present you are only a pretentious sham ; so pick a 
quarrel with somebody at once, and earn those military 
honours which you have bestowed upon yourself without 
deserving them." Accordingly, I should have sent a 
Benedetti to bully some sovereign fungus like myself, 
and, between us, we should have sacrificed a hundred 
thousand lives in a year. After which I should have 
covered myself with glory, and have been immortalised 
by Mr. Carlyle. So I should confine my Peace Bund 
to free countries ; but these, if united for the purpose, 
would soon extinguish war.' 

1 Gentlemen,' said M. D , ' I am obliged to you 

for the order which you have given me, and still more 
for permitting me to join you in your conversation ; and 
now, if you will allow me to do so, my carriage shall 
take us round Tours. You know " Ouentin Durward," 
no doubt ; and, if you don't believe in the identity of 
Tristan's house, at all events you will have a capital 
view of the city from the top of it. It will bear visiting 
twice, and Plessis-les-Tours too. No one sees a place 
thoroughly the first time.' Accordingly, we looked down 



SO 



Over Volcanoes- 



on the fertile but flat valley of the Loire, and the river 
which has so often spread devastation by its disastrous 
inundations. We saw the tower of Charlemagne, where 
his wife Luitgarde lies buried, and close to it the tower 
of St. Martin, the first Metropolitan of Tours. We fol- 
lowed with our eyes the lovely boulevards, over which 
the shady trees form arches, and looked down on the 
Palais de Justice, a splendid building, where, in the days 
of Gambetta, the Assembly met. Very hot in summer, 
and equally cold in winter, the chief town of the Indre 
and Loire may be, but in the spring of 1871 it was very 
bright and delightful, in spite of the sadness which still 
hung over it. It seemed a young widow just thinking 
of putting off her weeds. 



Bordeaux. 



3i 



CHAPTER VI. 

BORDEAUX. 

AMIENS and Rouen, Orleans and Tours, either were, 
or had lately been, occupied by German troops, and 
an air of depression still hung over them. It was 
natural, then, that Bordeaux, which had never been 
attacked — Bordeaux, which must have profited by the 
presence of the Government — should bear a somewhat 
different aspect. But the change was so great as to 
be startling. For the ships in the broad river were 
gay with flags ; the streets were crowded with country 
people ; bands were playing ; wine-shops were doing a 
great business, and jollity reigned on all sides. In 
fact, the Great Fair had begun ; and the news that 
fighting round Paris had also begun, and that a civil 
war was actually raging, did not appear to interfere 
with the amusements at all. The feeling of the popu- 
lace, so far as it could be gathered, seemed to be with 
the Reds ; and the Garonne sympathised, for its colour 
was as deep as that of the Bristol Channel. 

6 Is your river always as red as this ? ' I asked. The 
person addressed, a citizen of Bordeaux, had been re- 
garding the waters with interest, and he replied, 'Not 



3^ 



Over Volcanoes. 



always, Monsieur, but only after much rain, or before 
great bloodshed. We have not had much rain lately ; 
but the troops of the Commune have marched on 
Versailles. The news reached me at Angouleme yester- 
day.' 

' We heard the same report there/ I said, ' but we 
did not believe it to be true, or rather we hoped it 
might be false ; for quarrels between brothers ought 
to be made up, especially while enemies are looking 
on.' 

'Ah, Monsieur, you have reason,' rejoined the French- 
man ; ' but men are mad both at Paris and Versailles. 
Do you see,' he continued, ' those pieces of artillery 
which are lying in confusion along the quay? They 
arrived from America just as the German war was over, 
and men said that they would not be wanted. But, my 
faith, they will be wanted yet, or the red Garonne is a 
false prophet. And yet,' he added, ' we can have fairs ! 
Let Monsieur go into the square behind the high 
columns, that is, into the Place des Quinconces, and he 
will see that which will raise his spirits, or else depress 
them.' 

Accordingly, we went as we were directed, and were 
astonished. That booths should be there at fair-time 
for the sale of all sorts of useful articles was natural; for, 
in spite of all calamities, whether personal or national, 
business must go on. But, besides the stalls for mer- 
chandise, shows and sports of all sorts abounded ; nor 
did any of them want supporters. Here, a lad, amidst 
great applause, was knocking over with a ball just such 



Bordeaux. 



33 



puppets as Don Quixote cut to pieces, and, being very 
expert, he drew from their owner, disappointed at the 
unexpected prowess, a large return for his investment 
of sous. 

1 These figures should have represented German 
soldiers/ said the Cashier. ' The game then would have 
been more popular than it is now.' 

* That would have been going too far/ replied the 
Senior. 

' Not a bit of it/ rejoined the Cashier. ' There is a 
panorama of Worth, Wissenbourg, and Sedan in the 
fair. And yet I do wonder how any Frenchman can 
have the heart to look at such sights, while the Germans 
hold the northern forts of Paris, and the indemnity is 
unpaid. But what is the meaning of that crowd in the 
distance ? ' 

' Let us go and see/ said I. 

At the very outskirts of the fair stood a large and 
gaily-decorated carriage, to which five showy horses 
were attached. On the seat behind were four musicians 
blowing wind-instruments lustily, while another clashed 
the cymbals and another beat a drum. On the platform 
in front was a woman, tolerably young and rather pretty 
— in fact, exceedingly like the portrait of Becky Sharp in 
' Vanity Fair/ She was not, however, dressed with the 
refined taste of that little serpent. Such a costume 
would not have suited her case. For our heroine of the 
Bordeaux fair had not to attract fastidious marquises, 
but only the holiday-making Bordelais. So she had 
decked herself in green and gold from head to foot, and 

D 

I U ■ ' 



34 



Over Volcanoes. 



very magnificent she looked. But what was the nature 
of her entertainment ? Out of the multitude which sur- 
rounded the carriage, one person after another ascended 
its steps, and took his or her seat on a sort of sofa facing 
the lady. The band then played. When the music had 
ceased, Madame Becky examined her visitor closely ; 
she then turned to the people, and made a speech which 
was always received with applause and laughter ; then 
she took some instrument from a case, then she turned 
to her visitor again, showed him something at which he 
made a face, and lastly, she bowed him away. All this 
took little more than a minute, and was repeated over 
and over again. Madame Becky was drawing teeth, 
and very expeditious she was at the operation. 

' A very Moltke in dealing with the spicos oBovrcov, the 
fortress of the human jaws/ said I. 

' This is an allegory/ exclaimed the Cashier. ' The 
lady in the yellow hair is Germany personified, and she 
is pulling French teeth with a vengeance. There goes 
Phalsburg/ he continued, as a little molar was shown to 
its late owner ; ' and there is Strasburg/ as an eye-tooth 
came out after a struggle unusually violent ; ' and there 
is Metz/ as a rotten jaw surrendered a huge double 
tooth, quite sound, giving it up with such unexpected 
ease as embarrassed the fair operator, 

At last Madame Becky seemed puzzled. A country- 
man sat before her, simple and confiding. She looked 
in his mouth, and she turned away, startled, dis- 
gusted, perplexed. Teeth he had none. If only a 
stump had been there she would have extracted it, and 



Bordeaux. 



35 



have done with him. My faith, what did Monsieur want ? 
she seemed to ask. Monsieur pointed to his eyes. They 
were bad ; in fact the poor fellow was purblind. 

' I hope that she will not gouge him/ said the Senior 
Partner ; * that sort of woman is capable of anything.' 

Madame Becky proved equal to the occasion, but not 
in the way anticipated. She left her patient such eyes 
as he had, and she gave him a new set of teeth. 

I A fitting conclusion to the allegory, 5 cried the Cashier. 
' Poor France is half blind, and she has lost those 
teeth which she used to grind at Germany ; but at all 
events she has parted with a cause of continual pain, and 
the very extremity of her troubles has given her some- 
thing which may alleviate them. 5 

' You mean the Republic, 5 said Mr. Stevens. 

I I do, 5 replied the Cashier. i A Republic in France is 
an artificial affair, I know, like the ivories which Madame 
Becky presented just now to her patient, but like them 
it is the most useful gift for the occasion, and may, it 
rightly used, restore the strength of the toothless suf- 
ferer. At all events, it is a thousand times better than 
the rottenness of Napoleonic rule. 5 

' I observe, Mr. Cashier, 5 said Mr. Stevens, ' and not for 
the first time, that you deal severely with the Bonapartes. 
Remember that they are in exile, and in disgrace. 5 

' I do recollect all this, 5 replied the Cashier, i and it 
they were not plotting for a counter-revolution, I might 
be silent. As things are, I must speak. 5 

'And I, 5 interposed the Junior, 'will do our Cashier 
the justice to say that he talked and wrote just in the 

D 2 



36 



Over Volcanoes. 



same strain as he does now when Napoleon was reigning 
at the Tuileries, and short-sighted people hailed him as 
the Saviour of Society in France, the ablest statesman in 
the world, and the best friend of England. In proof of 
which I adduce the following stanzas, of which he was 
the author long ago 

The king is dead. Long live the king ! 

'Twas thus in France the royal 
On dying Winter smiled the Spring 
With gay and glad awakening, 

And voice of welcome loyal 

Then for their chief shall Frenchmen own 

A Corsican vaurien ? 
And brook his boast that he alone 
Can stop their snarlings with a bone, 
And drown in Vive Napoleon 

The Red Republic's paean ? ' 

1 1 am much obliged to you, Kingsman, for your 
opportune support,' said the Cashier. 

1 But you will not thank me,' continued I, 1 for in- 
forming you that your last stanza has been parodied as 
follows. It comes in so appropriately here at Bordeaux, 
that I cannot resist quoting it. It is — 

Then Vive le Roi ! Le Roi toujours, 

Let Constitutions go ; 
For all the ills which States endure 
God's monarchs are the only cure. 

Vive Henri de Bordeaux ! ' 

' Both the second line and the fifth want another sylla- 
ble,' said the Cashier ; 1 so you will excuse me if I prefer 
my original to the parody. And in self-defence I will 
give the last stanzas, the truth of which I feel now more 
than ever : — 



Bordeaux. 



37 



Then Vive la France, la brave, la belle ! 

Though wild winds, mourning dirges, 
Around her creaking timbers swell, 
That light bark, like an Ariel, 

Will ride upon their surges. 

Then Vive la France ! Vive, vive la Loi ! 

La Paix ! 1' Amour fraternel ! 
Mais pour la Guerre, ah non, ma foi ! 
A bas la Guerre, le jeu des Rois, 

Le jeu aifreux, infernal ! ' 

1 Now/ said Mr. Stevens, 1 let's go and see that magni- 
ficent theatre where the Assembly used to meet, and the 
Bourse, with the inscription on marble — 

L'Empire c'est la Paix.' 

i It is really difficult/ said the Cashier, 1 to realise the 
fact that so much of France was so long united to Eng- 
land.' 

' And still more hard/ added I, ' to acknowledge that 
England was then the conquered country/ 

' Well/ said Mr. Stevens, ' it is better to forget that 
sort of thing. All we want from France is wine at a fair 
price, and this is the interest of Bordeaux too. So ? 
whether we shout for Henri V. of Bordeaux, or no, at 
all events let us say — Vive Bordeaux ! ' 



33 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER VII. 

BIARRITZ. 

Biarritz is as much the creature of the Bonapartes as 
General Leboeuf or M. Rouher was. It was He, as the 
French caricaturists call the ex-Emperor — or rather She, 
which is the nickname of the ex-Empress — who disco- 
vered the high qualities of the place, as well as the 
merits of the men ; and all must, in some degree, be 
affected by the fall of that dynasty to which they were 
so much indebted. 

But Biarritz has better prospects for the future than 
either the late Minister of War or the sometime Keeper 
of the Seals. 

It is hardly possible to conceive any combination of 
circumstances which will give these men, and especially 
the first of them, a chance of recovering the high posi- 
tion once held in France. But Biarritz may look for- 
ward to a brilliant career still, if she only knows how 
to set her sails and to steer her course. It is true 
that she has lost, probably for ever, her original patrons, 
and these she may with good reason regret. She in- 
deed owes them much/ She is indebted to them for an 
introduction into the world of fashion, when she was 



Biarritz. 



39 



unknown ; and also for frequent, almost annual visits, 
which were not only profitable in themselves, but which 
led to other visits of less distinguished people, who wil- 
lingly paid high prices for the honour of living with such 
Imperial folks. All these advantages Biarritz has lost ; 
but she has retained those establishments which naturally 
followed in the train of such august company. And in 
these respects she is almost unrivalled. For upon the 
Pier, the Casino, and the Baths money has been spent 
lavishly, and yet judiciously ; so that the most has been 
made of advantages, which were in truth very great, 
What, for instance, could possibly be more complete than 
the tout ensemble of the Old Port ? You have there a 
secluded bay, a sandy shore, and a beach shelving into 
water moderately deep, together with all the artificial 
comforts which can be desired before and after a pro- 
menade in the sea. Then for those who prefer a more 
open shore, for those who love to be buffeted by the 
tepid waves, there is another range of bath-houses 
which faces the great Gulf of Gascony, and which no 
doubt was ■ in better times crowded with bathers. Now 
in this beautiful spring there is nothing going on ; and, 
strolling along the beach, there are only the students 
from some clerical seminar}-, whose long black dresses 
will certainly not be taken off for the sake of a dip in 
the water, warm as the temperature is. But by the 
autumn prosperity may revive. In fact, the place must 
recover itself, if the proper steps are taken. All that it 
wants is a new patron. ' And now, sir,' said the Junior 
Partner, laying down his note-book and pencil, ' where 



40 



Over Volcanoes. 



is another Mademoiselle de Montijo to be found for 
Biarritz ?' 

This question was asked while we were resting under 
the shade of the young fir-trees which have been planted 
within the pretty grounds of the Villa Eugenie, the 
Junior having availed himself of a short nap which his 
companions were enjoying, in order to jot down a few 
remarks. 'A patron for Biarritz?' said Mr. Stevens, 
rubbing his eyes. ' A place like this requires no patron 
at all, that is while people can make themselves at 
home in the domains of the ex-Emperor, as we are 
doing now. I really did not think that I, to whom the 
Revolutionists of France have given so much trouble, 
should ever feel thankful to them ; but I am glad to 
have had an opportunity of seeing the Villa Eugenie, and 
I fear that nothing short of a Revolution would have pro- 
cured me an admission. But being here, just look round 
and see how perfect everything is ; and when I say this, 
I don't mean that all is perfect within this ring fence 
only, but throughout Biarritz, which lies yonder. So as 
for a patron, it wants none. It is true that some one 
was required just at first. I admit that it was necessary 
to find friends ready to erect a Casino, and a Pier, 
Bathing Establishments, Hotels, &c. ; but all this has 
been done, and done thoroughly, and now the place can 
stand on its own merits, if it can stand at all.' 

1 Nevertheless,' said the Cashier, i a patron or patrons 
are wanted ; and I will suggest a name before which the 
Bonapartes and the Bourbons must bow their heads, 
and that name is the Great Public of Europe and 



Biarritz. 



4i 



America. And here in this Villa Eugenie is a building 
ready to receive these august visitors with due honour. 
The rooms are still furnished, as we have seen by- 
looking through the windows ; and are furnished in 
Imperial fashion. The gardens only require a little 
attention to make them lovely. These Judas-trees, 
planted by Leboeuf. no doubt, or perhaps by Bismarck, 
are very handsome; the little cascades, which must have 
been made for the amusement of the Prince Imperial, 
are charming ; the peeps got through these trees towards 
the sea are beautiful ; and, above all, these young firs 
afford that shade which is the one thing wanting at 
most places on the sea-shore.' 

'And,' added Mr. Stevens, 'the Eugenie Chapel will 
make a capital English church. There is no damage 
done to it, except that the wings and the beaks of the 
Imperial eagles have been clipped, and these may well 
remain in their present state as historical records.' 

'This is a plausible scheme,' said the Junior ; 'and I 
like to hear a prayer for the President of the States in- 
terpolated in our Liturgy abroad ; but then, neither the 
villa, nor the chapel, nor those guard-rooms, which would 
do so well for hot and cold baths, are for sale.' 

' But, 5 replied Air. Stevens, ' they are all national pro- 
perty now, as we saw by the notice at our entrance ; and 
although some sick and wounded are here, there may be 
other places found for them.' 

' The men of Paris are willing to sell/ said I. 

'Of course they are,' rejoined the Cashier; 'and 
M. Thiers would be of the same mind as regards all 



42 



Over Volcanoes. 



Monarchical and Imperial property if he and his As- 
sembly were real Republicans, which I much doubt. 
But this I know, that nothing would so certainly bar any 
restoration of Monarchy as the sale of all national pro- 
perty in small lots, for then every purchaser would have 
a direct interest in keeping away all possible claim- 
ants to the throne, with its residences, its parks, and its 
forests/ 

' Keeper of the Purse/ cried Mr. Stevens, i you don't 
mean to say that you are a Republican ?' 

' No, not in England/ answered the Cashier ; ' but if I 
were a Frenchman, I should certainly be for that form 
of government/ 

( All that Biarritz has to do/ said I, i is to give an 
assurance to the world that Republican, and not Impe- 
rial prices are to prevail. When this point has been 
settled, visitors will flock from every quarter, and will be 
as' numerous in the early spring as in the autumn/ 

- I should think/ said Mr. Stevens, ' that spring ought 
to be the best season here, for people leave Paris soon 
after Easter ; and what could have been more perfect 
than the fresh air of the early morning to-day, when we 
walked to the crag, from which the figure of the 
Madonna looks over the Gulf of Gascony ? 1 

' I saw a rainbow in the spray as it beat against the 
rocks of the pier/ added the Cashier, ' and I hailed it as 
a good omen for Biarritz/ 

' Well, gentlemen/ said the Junior, ' if we talk in this 
strain much longer, and I record the conversation, every- 



Biarritz. 



43 



. one will think that we have bought up the houses here, 
and have a moneyed interest in the place/ 

' I don't care what they think/ replied Mr. Stevens ; 
1 but this I know, that if the future proprietor of the 
Eugenie Hotel does not put a copy of " Over Vol- 
canoes " in every room, and find a knife and fork for 
each member of our Firm, whenever he goes to Biar- 
ritz, that landlord will be an ungrateful man/ 

' Under those circumstances/ said the Junior, ' I 
should make my appearance here at the commencement 
of every April ; and I will not say how long I should 
stay/ 



44 



Over Vo leaf toes. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

BURGOS. 

The first thing which I did on the morning after my 
arrival at Burgos was to go into a library for the pur- 
pose of buying the ' Romance of the Cid/ I did this 
even before going to the fine old gateway of Santa 
Maria, or the Cathedral. For the library in question 
was just opposite to the Fonda del Norte, and it was 
a temptation to buy the story of the Campeador at his 
own birthplace and home. So I entered the shop and 
asked for the book. The librarian in reply said that 
he had not got the work, and that he knew nothing 
of it. 

* But it is in your window/ exclaimed I in my best 
Castilian ; and in order to be certain of the fact, I 
went out into the street again and looked. There, 
sure enough, it was to all appearance, 'El Romance 
del Ci — ; ' the rest of the last word was covered, but 
what could it be at Burgos except ' Cid 1 ? So I en- 
tered the shop again, pointed out precisely where the 
work lay, and it was soon placed in my hands. It was 
not, however, 'El Romance del Cid/ but 'del Ciego/ 
'The Story of the Blind Man/ Of the Campeador 



Burgos. 



45 



Ruy Diaz de Bivar nothing seemed to be known, 
although the library in question was the best in the 
place. 

When the Senior heard the story, he said : ' " The 
Romance of the Blind Man," and a most appropriate 
title that is for a book at Burgos ; for 'tis the city of the 
blind, I went out last night, and I found the Calle San 
Lorenzo and the other streets lit up, there being candles 
in all the windows, and also in the hands of a very witch- 
like procession, The people were kneeling in the dust, 
and I had to take off my hat. In fact, the Host was 
going to the house of some sick man. A blind religion, 
in my estimation.' 

* Such an affair as that/ replied the Cashier, 1 is not 
peculiar to Burgos, but common enough in Spain. The 
place, however, is both bigoted and bloodthirsty. I 
remember when Prim sent his Commissioner to take an 
inventory of the treasures contained in the Cathedral, 
the man was assassinated close to the gateway of Bishop 
Maurice, and there is no doubt that the clergy had a 
leading hand in that business.' 

'Let's go and see the Cathedral now/ said the Senior; 
* the thing has to be done, and we may as well do it at 
once.' 

Accordingly the travellers, accompanied by Gil Bias, 
proceeded to investigate that grand building, of which 
they saw everything except the Chapel of San Juan de 
Sahagun, which is closed in Lent This, to some people, 
would have been a great disappointment ; for they thus 
missed the Virgen de Oca, a figure much worshipped, 



4 6 



Over Volcanoes. 



and the shrine of Beato Lesmes, who has the charge of 

our kidneys. 

In the Chapel of the Constable Don Pedro Fernandez 
de Velasco, the conversation which had been interrupted 
was renewed, and the Junior said : ' I am not surprised 
that the priests w r ere afraid of losing these relics, for, to 
say nothing of their intrinsic value, they must be a 
source of great profit; and I wonder that they are 
entrusted to such a shabby custodian as our cicerone is. 
The man looks like a beggar.' 

' I suspect,' said Mr. Stevens, ' that the fellow's dress 
is a matter of policy, for the present temper of the 
Spaniards points to the spoliation of the Church, and it 
is as well for ecclesiastics to plead poverty, even in 
appearance.' 

' No one will rob them of their curiosities,' said the 
Cashier, ' if they behave quietly ; and some of these 
things are very wonderful indeed. Did you observe, in 
the Chapel del Santfsimo Cristo, that crucifix of Nico- 
demus, which floated to Spain of its own accord ?' 

' I was looking at St. John and the Eagle by Murillo,' 
replied Mr. Stevens ; ' and I should like to have that 
picture for my share, if there is to be pillage.' 

'And I,' said the Junior, - should choose the cofre of 
the Cid. I like the story which is attached to it, " The 
Gold of my Truth." It is very striking.' 

' What is it ?' asked Mr. Stevens. 

' Come with me,' replied the Junior. 

Accordingly we returned to one of the numerous 
chapels which join the cloisters, and, pointing to some 



Bicrgos. 



47 



mouldering wood raised up against the wall, and twelve 
feet or so from the ground, I said : ' That is the 
famous box which El Honra de la Espana filled with 
sand, and then pledged to the Jews for 600 marks ; and 
yet in spite of its worthlessness he redeemed the pledge, 
for he said that it contained the " Gold of his Truth " ! ' 

' A very rascally proceeding,' exclaimed Mr. Stevens, 
1 How would you like to be treated in that way, if you 
had lent money ? Why, the security was worth nothing, 
except in case of the man's success in his speculation. 
The Cid deserved to be sent to prison, instead of being 
regarded as a hero/ 

' I can assure you,' said the Cashier, i that not only 
in Spain, but in the world generally, that act of the 
Campeador Don Ruy Diaz de Bivar is regarded as 
very grand/ 

' There is nothing like business about it,' the Senior 
maintained. ' However,' he added, ' one must not 
judge a Spanish soldier of the year 1046 by the moral 
standard of an English tradesman of 1 871. So now 
let's go and see his burial-place.' 

Accordingly the three friends started in a carriage to 
San Pedro de Cardena, a convent founded in memory 
of Theodoric V., who died at the fountain Caradigna in 
537. It was a Spanish bridle-road over which they 
travelled — in other words, it was across country — and 
the building, modernised in 1736, and almost deserted 
now, was not worth a visit. But it was interesting on 
the way to note the mode of farming, to see the gangs of 
picturesque peasants, chiefly females, plying their hoes, 



48 



Over Volcanoes. 



and also to catch the views of the Guadarrama, and the 
mountains of the Asturias, on both of which the snow 
still rested. Anyone, too, w T ho loved old books and did 
not mind stealing them, might have helped himself 
from the remnant of the Benedictine Library — that is, if 
he had bribed the solitary custodian, and the Gil Bias. 
It would be as well, however, in dealing with the latter, 
to be cautious, and the same remark applies also to 
the Fonda which patronises him. That is to say, the 
traveller will remark, that, while he orders freely, and 
asks no questions about charges, very indifferent Spanish 
has been understood by an obliging landlady and good- 
humoured waiters. But if he becomes anxious about 
the cost, and hints at thirty reals a day as the outside 
price, he will be handed over to a daughter of the land- 
lady, who speaks, through her nose, a language which she 
believes to be French, but which is as unintelligible as 
the wildest Basque. However, although the traveller 
must give up all hope of making any bargain, there 
will be no great harm, when the landlord, at the last, 
presents his account. And although other Englishmen 
may hold with Mr. Stevens that Burgos is a city of the 
blind, it will probably be admitted that the old strong- 
hold on the Arlanzon, whose fortified hill once discom- 
fited the Duke of Wellington, whose Alameda by the 
river-side is ornamented with statues of mythical kings, 
whose gateway of Santa Maria is one of the finest speci- 
mens of mediaeval architecture in the world, will repay 
a long visit And to this catalogue of attractions the 
greatest of all have still to be added, viz. : — 



Burgos. 



49 



1. The Cathedral, with its nine chapels, its Puerta 
del Perdon and Puerta del Sacramental. 

2. La Cartuja de Miraflores, with the alabaster monu- 
ment of Don Juan II. and Isabel of Portugal, his wife. 

3. San Pedro de Cardena, before mentioned. 

4. And above all, Las Huelgas, the pleasure-ground 
of Eleanor, the daughter of our Henry II., and the wife 
of Alonzo VIII. 



E 



5o 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER IX. 

TOLEDO ON GOOD FRIDAY. 

' TlMETO LETUM/ Such was the punning motto which 
an old Etonian, Augustus Birch, suggested for Toledo 
some sixteen years ago, or more. And the happy hit 
found its way into a book of Spanish travels which 
ought to be remembered, if it is not. ' Timeto Letum ! ' 
What better inscription could be placed over the great 
horseshoe arch which leads up to the ancient and once 
royal city of the Toledan blades ? 

But the death, which Toledo, in its prosperity, dealt 
to so many, came in the end upon itself. For, when 
the capital was transferred to Valladolid, the city of 
Wamba fell. Now it is a monument of the past, and 
although the Tagus rushes past it as quickly as ever, 
and the railway might have been expected to put some 
life into its dulness, the only effect which Toledo pro- 
duces on the mind is a sense of grand dreariness and 
glorious ruin. There is, indeed, a striking contrast 
between the past and the present here. Once, Toledo 
was the Sheffield, the Canterbury, and the London, 
all in one. Now it is what Sheffield will be when 
the quarrels between men and masters, mutually de- 
pendent, have driven trade elsewhere ; what Canter- 



Toledo on Good Friday. 



51 



bury will be, when the freest and most tolerant of all 
Churches has been torn to pieces by factions, and dis- 
established in disgust ; what London will be when one of 
the finest rivers in the world has stunk its inhabitants out. 
Xor is this depreciation of Toledo the splenetic attack 
of a foreigner, who has been disgusted with the garlic 
served up at the Parador, or the innumerable beggars. 

Nec meus hie sermo est, sed quod Zorilia locutus. 

This is what Zorilia has written — Zorilia, not the 
statesman, but Don Jose, the greatest poet produced 
by modern Spain. He says : — 

Hoy solo tiene el gigantesco nombre, 
Parodia con que cubre su vergiienza, 
Parodia vil, en que adivina el horabre 
Lo que Toledo la opulenta fue ! 
Tiene un Templo sumido en una hondura, 
Dos puentes, y entre ruinas y blasones 
Un Alcazar, sentado en una altura, 
Y un pueblo inibecil que vegeta al pie. 

Which being translated is as follows : — 

Now has it only a gigantic name. 

'Tis a burlesque, which fain would hide its shame, 

A poor burlesque, yet still one can descry 

What rich Toledo was in days gone by. 

It owns a Temple lying in a hole, 

Two bridges, ruins, scutcheons. On a knoll 

An Alcazar, its high head elevating, 

And at its foot a poor town vegetating. 

But the ruinous condition of Toledo, its huge build- 
ings dismantled, its precipitous rocks undefended, its 
Alcazar deserted, its gloomy streets, its Oriental gate- % 
ways, and beggarly population, all fit it for one purpose 

E 2 



52 



Over Volcanoes. 



— namely, the great procession on Good Friday. 
For the day of Death cannot be more appropriately 
celebrated than in the city of the dead. There is 
also the magnificent Cathedral, so superlatively rich 
amid so much poverty, and the Transparente, which, in 
spite of some absurdities in its details, is very striking 
as a whole, set off as it is by the splendour of the 
stained glass and the surrounding gloom. So for the 
pasos, which are carried through the streets on ever} 7 
Good Friday, there is no place, excepting Jerusa- 
lem, so congenial as Toledo. It is true that travellers 
hasten to Seville rather than Toledo, for the purpose of 
witnessing this strange sight ; and, in some respects, the 
attractions offered at the former place on such occasions 
are superior. The performers, for instance, are more 
numerous and of a higher class, for there the Duke and 
Duchess of Montpensier are sometimes seen in the ranks 
of the devout. The ornaments, also, are infinitely more 
costly, and much more ponderous. But, in spite of 
these advantages, which the capital of Andalusia un- 
doubtedly has, the desolation of Toledo outweighs them 
all. 

At gay, sensual Seville, a city rather Protestant in 
its religious feelings, and very indifferent, the spectacle 
is out of place, while at dreary, antiquated, miserable 
Toledo, it is just the thing. The strange ceremony, in 
truth, becomes the city of the Goths, and is evidently 
in its natural home there. 

Mindful of all this, we took care to be in the Zoco- 
dover by three o'clock P.M. ; and, after waiting for an 



Toledo 011 Good Friday. 



53 



hour and a half, amongst a crowd of very wild-look- 
ing human beings, we were rewarded for our patience. 
Out of one of the narrowest of all the narrow streets 
came the long-expected procession. The pace was so 
slow that it hardly seemed to move, and the music 
was scarcely more than a mere beating of time — a 
low, monotonous, and very weird-like humming. The 
first thing seen was a cluster of spears, like those in 
the Breda Quadro of Velasquez at Madrid, then high 
above the heads of the people a ghastly figure, 
life-size, appeared. It was Jesus nailed to the cross. 
For some time this object was the only one on which the 
upraised eyes of the spectators rested ; but behind it 
followed on foot twenty or thirty people with black 
masks and head-dresses peaked at the back, which group 
presented a very grotesque appearance. Then there was 
the banner of the cross, and after it a band of men in 
armour, forming, as it were, its guard. Then another 
banner, and then more men belonging to some religious 
guild. Next there appeared at the same elevation, and 
of the same size as the crucified Saviour, a group of 
five figures, borne on one huge board. In the centre 
was Christ, while on each side were two men engaged in 
taking Him down from the cross, at the foot of which 
two mourners bent. After these images, so carefully 
and slowly carried as to move very little, a fresh guard 
walked. The next figure, high in the air, and of the 
same dimensions as the rest, was a Virgin kneeling under 
* cross. Then there was an interval filled up by more 
men, and next another platform carried as before, and 



54 



Over Volcanoes. 



having on it a tomb of glass, through which the body of 
Jesus could be seen. At the foot of this the Virgin 
Mother clung weeping. Then there was another banner, 
and then the civil and military authorities of the city 
and province, walking two and two. The procession 
now seemed to be over, but the chief part was reserved. 
Last of all, and after a little interval, came a plat- 
form a trifle higher than the others. On this stood 
the full-length figure of a lady. She was dressed in 
black velvet, with magnificent trimmings of lace, and 
petticoats swelled out after the fashion of the day. Her 
hands were clasped, and from her eyes two golden tears 
were falling. Of course this was intended for the 
Maiden Mother of Bethlehem, weeping for her crucified 
Son> but the gentle Jewess of the olden time would 
hardly have recognised herself in these trappings of a 
modern fine lady. At the appearance of this queenly 
dame all hats were taken off, and many people crossed 
themselves, with eyes fixed on the graven image which 
was surrounded by clergy. The Archbishop, however, 
the Primate of all Spain, was not present, being ex- 
cused by his great age. 

The procession closed incongruously with soldiers and 
a military band. 

When all the strange apparitions had passed out of 
sight, the Junior asked his friends what they thought 
of the scene which had been witnessed. 

' Never mind what we thought,' replied Mr. Stevens ; 
* the great question is, how did the Toledans feel all the 
while?' 



Toledo 011 Good Friday. 



55 



* One of them/ said the Cashier, ' was feeling my ring 
while I held my hands behind me ; and when I looked 
round I could not see the baffled thief ; but I did see 
that those wild fellows from the mountains, who were 
sitting under the soportales before the show commenced, 
had not risen to look at it ; from which I conclude that 
they at least were not much interested in the pro- 
cession/ 

' No doubt they had seen it often/ replied I ; 1 but 
surely to us, who witnessed it for the first time, it was 
very striking !' 

i The figure in black velvet and jewels spoilt it all/ 
said Mr. Stevens. 



< 



56 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER X. 

TRAVELLING — 'DAMES SEULES,' ETC. 

\ I can't understand/ said Mr. Stevens, i how any human 
being can travel for his health, or for his pleasure, 
especially out of England, and still more especially in 
Spain/ 

This exclamation was drawn from the head of our 
House by certain annoyances which accompanied that 
visit to Toledo which 'has just been described. In the 
first place, the station had been very crowded, and the 
porters had not paid that respect to us which is so uni- 
versally shown at Ironham and its neighbourhood. Then 
three seats together could not be found in any of the 
first-class carriages ; under which circumstances Mr. 
Stevens had been induced, much against his will, to enter, 
with his companions, a second-class. However, when 
the official of the railway came to look at the tickets, 
and found that we were not in our right places, he, 
with true Spanish punctilio, insisted upon our dis- 
mounting, and again he tried to separate us, which 
being again declined, it seemed very probable that we 
should be left behind. At last a first-class carriage 
was put on, and everything came right, as is generally 



Travelling — 'Dames settles? etc. 57 



the case when people are patient, determined, and good- 
humoured. 

These events had discomposed Mr. Stevens, and 
so he went on with his grumbling. ' We have been to 
Toledo on Good Friday, instead of going to some Pro- 
testant place of worship ; and what good have we got 
by our journey ? It is true that we have seen a fine 
Cathedral, with more chapels than I can count — some 
magnificent cloisters, tombs, relics, &c, and, above 
all, the black image of the Virgin ; but what do we 
know of Toledo ? One sight has pushed another out of 
my mind, and all that I am likely to remember is that 
splendid pulpit, from which the friar shouted and howled 
his sermon. That pulpit was like a piece of plate, and 
I shall never forget it or its fellow, but as for everything 
else, I must refer to [Murray.' 

Mr. Stevens was in such a bad humour, that we did 
not venture to make any reply. So he continued : 'We 
are supposed to be travelling on business, and merely 
sightseeing when we have nothing better to do ; but 
if we were here for pleasure, if we had come amongst 
these beggars and banditti for the satisfaction of see- 
ing them, I should say that we deserved to be called 
fools.' 

Judgment went again by default, so far as the two 
Juniors were concerned, but a gentleman in the railway 
carriage, who had been taken for a Spaniard, could hold 
his peace no longer, and he spoke as follows : — 

* Sir, you are reviling the most powerful medicine in 
the whole pharmacopoeia, namely, foreign travel — a recipe 



58 



Over Volcanoes. 



which has cured more human beings than the drugs 
have killed, which is saying a good deal.' 

Mr. Stevens gave a start of surprise, and then girded 
himself up for battle. 

'Do you mean to tell me that it does me good 
to live on food which, for aught I know, may be 
horse, or ass, or cat, or weasel ? To drink wines, the 
juice of which has been pressed out by dirty feet, and 
then stored in skins which stink of pitch ? Is it whole- 
some to be hurried about at stations, put into a carriage 
one minute and then pulled out of it the next ; to say 
nothing of being abused in a foreign language, without 
being able to reply a word ? ' 

( All these things are parts of the cure/ replied the 
stranger. i This sort of adventures prevents a man from 
thinking about himself — his business, his grievances, and- 
his ailments — which thoughts prey on the mind, and 
so upon the body. Besides, what funny things come 
across you in travelling — things at which you can't help 
laughing, and laughter is so wholesome/ 

* But why should there be more of this sort of amuse- 
ment abroad than there is at home ? ' enquired Mr. 
Stevens. 

'My dear sir, the reason is plain. People have 
to speak in a foreign language, and I can assure you 
that we English talk very funnily. I remember a friend 
of mine assuring a foreign lady that he knew a person 
who had, by his one wife, quatre-vingts children/ 

'Well, what was the joke ? ' enquired Mr. Stevens. 

* Why,' replied the stranger, '"quatre-vingts" does 



Travelling — ' Dames settles I etc. 59 



not mean four-and-twenty, but eighty, that is four 
twenties. I'll tell you a better story than that, which 
occurred to myself at Brussels the other day. In a 
first-class carriage sat a quiet, elderly man, who looked 
as if he had suffered many years from a strong-minded 
wife, which is about the worst disease a man can 
have. The lady, in fact, was rampaging just then up 
and down the platform. Upon which a gentleman, who 
did not much like the idea of having her for a com- 
panion on his journey, lit up his cigar under the nose of 
her spouse. " Come out, Henry darling ! " cried the lady 
to her husband, as soon as she saw the smoke. "Why?" 
said he. The lady looked indignantly at the cigar, and 
reiterated her mandate. " Come out, Henry darling ! " 
On this the poor fellow proceeded to obey. Having 
thus secured his obedience, the wife devoted her atten- 
tion to finding another carriage, which was not easy, 
as she spoke very bad French. " Ou est le maitre 
de la station ? Ou sont les portiers ? " cried she ; but 
no one answered. Each carriage was then inspected, 
but there seemed to be some objection to all. In one 
was a baby, in another a gentleman with a pipe, 
in another one seat only, whereas two were required. 
At last it seemed that the very thing wanted had been 
found. " Ici, ici ! " cried the lady to the porters. " Here, 
Henry darling," to her husband, " here is a beautiful 
carriage, all to ourselves." Her husband was by her side 
in a minute, anxious to get in ; her hand was on the 
door, ready to open it, and the bell was ringing; just 
then her eye fell on tw r o words fatal to the hopes of one 



6o 



Over Volcanoes. 



who had a husband in tow. These words were " Dames 
seules." As she saw them, she could not resist ejacula- 
ting aloud — " Dames seules ! " The train was starting. 
I jumped into my seat, and left her on the platform, 
which still resounded with the exclamation "Dames 
seules ! " " Very shocking," said an old gentleman who 
sat next to me ; " I did not think that any English- 
woman could make such an exhibition of herself/* 
" A poor fussy creature," I replied ; " a misery to her hus- 
band no doubt, but I am sorry that she is left behind." 
" I am surprised, sir," he answered, "that you, who seem 
by your dress to be a clergyman, should regard such 
a serious matter so lightly. That wretched creature not 
only talked slang, but she absolutely swore." " She did 
indeed," chimed in the rest of the passengers. " We all 
heard her. Everyone, in fact, must have heard her, 
especially you who were watching her on the platform." 
The truth flashed across my mind at once. " Dames 
seules " cried the lady in French, but the words sounded 
very differently in the ears of those who supposed that 
she was speaking English. It was evident that the poor 
woman had been sold through her fussiness, and sold 
in such a fashion as might make anyone swear. For 
my part, I had had my eyes upon the words, and 
therefore I knew what she meant, but others had mis- 
taken her " Dames seules " for " d d sell." ' 

1 1 can cap that story,' said the Cashier. ' Some time 
ago a naval captain was travelling in Spain, a man who 
always ventures to speak the language of the country 
wherever he happens to be, and speaking it very 



Travelling — 1 Dames settles? etc. 61 

badly, finds it necessary to apologise for his blun- 
ders. So one day he said, " Cuando hablo Castellano, 
yo me meo siempre ; " by which he meant, " When I 
speak Spanish, I always am afraid." 9 

' Well, what did he say ? ' asked Mr. Stevens. 
' I hardly like to explain,' replied the Cashier ; ' but 
you will understand that the Captain had given an 
unpleasant description of his state, when I tell you 
that the word "meo" is connected with the Latin 
" mingo," and has the same meaning/ 

' It is a long time since I left school,' said the stranger, 
1 but lines like " Mingeret in patrios cineres " stick in the 
memory, when those more worthy of being preserved 
are forgotten. So I think that I know what the Cap- 
tain really said.' 

1 I cannot, however, agree,' said Mr. Stevens, i that a 
hundred such stories are a sufficient set-off against the 
troubles of continental travelling, especially since a man 
like myself is far more often the subject of a joke than 
the author of it. But I am delighted to make the ac- 
quaintance of an Englishman, and I hope that you will 
dine with us to-morrow at the Fonda de Paris, at Ma- 
drid, which would be a comfortable house if the waiters 
did not look so gloomily at us, and show such evident 
signs of being tired of our company.' 



62 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XL 

LA IMPERIAL Y CORONADA VILLA. 

1 1 NEVER was so deceived in any place as I am in 
Madrid/ said Mr. Stevens, after he had been a few 
days at the Fonda de Paris in the Puerta del Sol. 
' The Guide-Book, and all other books, assured me that 
the climate is treacherous and disagreeable, that the 
cold drives people out of the streets at one time of 
the year, and the heat at another. But, so far as 
my experience goes, all this is untrue. On the con- 
trary, the weather is delightful, and I never saw any 
place so gay as Madrid was last Thursday. Even the 
cabmen took a holiday, and everybody seemed to be on 
foot in the streets.' 

' The truth is,' I replied, t that we have come here at 
the best time of the year, indeed at the only good time ; 
and as for last Thursday, it was Maundy Thursday.' 

' And what has Maundy Thursday to do with the 
matter ? I should have thought that the day before 
Good Friday would have been, in a Roman Catholic 
country, an exceptionally quiet and dull day/ 

' It is just the opposite/ said I ; 'for everybody goes 
to church on that day here.' 



La Imperial y Coronada Villa, 



63 



' But that fact,' rejoined the Senior, i does not tend to 
make a place lively. What can look more miserable 
than London or Ironham on a Sunday ? ' 

k That is because in London and Ironham people 
go to one church, and stay there, whereas in Madrid, 
on Maundy Thursday, everybody makes a point of 
visiting every church and staying at none. The king 
and queen were doing their duty in this way all the 
day ; but, although we were doing the same, we had 
not the luck to meet them.' 

' There is no blessing on visiting churches ■ for 
curiosity, and as sightseers,' said the Cashier ; ' if we had 
gone to say our prayers, the case might have been 
different.' 

' And there is not a church worth seeing,' said Mr. 
Stevens, ' except Santo Domingo el Real ; as for the 
Santa Maria de Almudena, which does duty for the 
Cathedral, I don't care for it. And I suppose that 
Atocha, now that it has been plundered by the Revo- 
lutionists, is not worth much ; at all events, we need not 
go there.' 

( But we must do so,' said the Cashier, k for the sake 
of the associations connected with it The Virgin of 
Atocha is the protectress of the royal family.' 

1 I wonder whether she has transferred her affections 
to Amadeo,' said the Junior, * as she did so readily to 
Isabella.' 

' I suspect that he won't care what the graven image 
of Ephesus thinks of him,' said the Cashier. 

1 Well,' said Mr, Stevens^ 1 although I care nothing for 



6 4 



Over Volcanoes. 



the churches, I do like Madrid. It is the pleasantest 
place which we have seen since we left Ironham. As 
for the carriages, they are the neatest I ever saw ; and 
the horses are the finest steppers in the world/ 

' But the place is not Spanish at all/ said I. 

' That's just why I like it/ continued Mr. Stevens. 
' One might fancy oneself at Cheltenham, which really 
rather resembles it.' 

6 But/ cried the Cashier, 1 there are sights to be seen 
here which are not to be met with at Cheltenham, or 
anywhere else in England. The Palace, for instance, 
what a grand building, and what a magnificent court- 
yard ! The two regiments of infantry and three 
squadrons of cavalry which we saw in it on Saturday 
had plenty of room to manoeuvre.' 

i You must give a glowing account of all these things, 
Kingsman/ said the Senior ; ' from the Palace at one end 
of the town to the Prado at the other. The world will 
expect a good deal when " Madrid " is seen at the head 
of a chapter/ 

'I shall not attempt to give any description of 
Madrid/ said I ; 6 for is not everything written in the 
Guide-Book of that King of Publishers, whose royal 
livery is, as it ought to be, red ? A bull-fight I will 
describe, if I have a chance ; for each one of these 
affairs must have a speciality of its own. Besides, I 
should like to offer my opinion on the morality of the 
amusement/ 

I put this out as a feeler, doubting whether we should 
have an opportunity of witnessing a corrida de toros 



La Imperial y Coronada Villa. 65 

at all, since we did not intend to go there without Mr. 
Stevens ; and we thought it not unlikely that he would 
set his face against that institution of Spain. 

I listened therefore for his reply with a good deal 
of anxiety, and was very much pleased when, by way 
of answer, he produced the tickets which he had pur- 
chased. He informed us also that we must be ready to 
accompany him in two hours, that is, at half-past three 
that day. 



F 



66 



Over Volcanoes, 



CHAPTER XII. 

AT A ' CORRIDA DE TOROS.' 

THERE is no difficulty in finding the way to the Plaza 
de Toros on the day of a fight^ for everyone is on the 
road, if not with the intention of entering the ring, at 
all events with a desire to see the company going to it ; 
and a wonderful sight it is, superior even to that which 
the road to Epsom exhibits on the Derby Day. Past the 
Chamber of Deputies and the statue of Cervantes, comes 
a carriage with five mules driven in hand, and going at 
full gallop, for there seems to be no law at Madrid 
against furious driving. In and out, between the other 
vehicles, the strange omnibus dashes, while the bells 
on the harness jingle, the plumes wave, and the driver 
yells. In the opposite direction comes a carriage which 
has already deposited its passengers, and is now return- 
ing for some more. The two pass each other with the 
speed of express trains, but do not in the least dis- 
compose those hidalgos, who are driving their high- 
stepping Cordova stallions at a pace which, by com- 
parison, is stately. Then five in hand, or perhaps six 
in hand, all horses, fly by. Then come Castilians on 
horseback, then mules again, then horses and mules 



At a 1 Corrida de Toros! 67 

together, but always with the same many-coloured 
trappings, always with the same tinkling bells. How 
the animals are guided through the crowd no one can 
see. All that can be perceived of such superintend- 
ence is a man standing up just behind their tails, and 
shouting, ' Arre ! Arre ! Arre ! 1 in a state of great ex- 
citement. Round his head he flourishes a ponderous 
whip, which seems to supersede all necessity for reins, 
and under this stimulus the teams of horses, mules, or 
mixed animals, as the case may be, pull the huge sway- 
ing vehicles, crowded with passengers, up hill and down 
hill to their destination. Through the Puerta del Sol, 
up the Calle de Alcala, across the Prado, past the 
Buen Retiro and the Puerta de Alcala, the rush of car- 
riages, equestrians, and pedestrians proceeds, and of 
course the excitement becomes wilder as the Plaza de 
Toros is approached. Nor is the scene inside its 
walls less striking. There the arena, where the bulls are 
soon to be, is filled with the members of the Fancy, many 
of whom are in their national costumes, and all very 
animated. The rest of the spectators are hunting for 
their seats. In this> however, there is little difficulty, 
even in the case of foreigners, for everything is well 
arranged. At half-past four o'clock precisely, the Ma- 
drilenos become impatient, and a caballero, sitting in 
front of us, repeats in an indignant tone, i Cuatro y 
media ! Cuatro y media ! ' by which he intimates that it 
is time to begin, and that the ring ought to be cleared 
for action. This cry is taken up more or less all round 

the building. But it is hushed when, in the quarter 

F 2 



68 



Over Volcanoes. 



opposite to the President's box, a hum is heard, which 
soon spreads, i El Rey ! el Rey ! ' All eyes are now 
turned one way, that is, to the point where a young, 
handsome, and very determined-looking man is bowing, 
bareheaded, to his people. There are a few ' vivas/ 
not many ; but, on the whole, there seems to be a good 
feeling on this occasion between royalty and its sub- 
jects. Indeed, how could it be otherwise ? For Amadeo 
Primero was called to occupy the throne by the po- 
pular voice, without any canvassing on his part He 
has shown himself a brave hidalgo by riding alone in 
advance of his generals, right through his capital, just 
after the assassination of his chief friend, and, besides, 
he is now presiding for the first time at the great 
national sport of his adopted country. To receive him 
badly under such circumstances would have been un- 
generous, and perhaps a little more warmth of welcome 
might not have been out of place. However, just then 
the hearts of the people were not set on monarchies or 
on republics, but on the bulls ; so a signal is given 
from the royal box, and the marshals, in their quaint 
costume, ride in to clear the course. This is done 
in a moment ; for the men in the arena are even 
more anxious for the sport than anyone else. Then 
another signal is given, and the whole troop of per- 
formers, chulos, banderilleros, picadores, and espadas, 
headed by the marshals, go forward and salute the 
king. This brings down a cheer, and no wonder, for it 
is a very pretty sight. Again the cheer is repeated, and 
still more heartily. The king has thrown down the 



At a ' Corrida de Toros! 69 

key of the bull's den, and an alguazil has caught it in 
his hat. ' Viva el Rey ! ' is the cry. But only for a 
second is Amadeo the hero, for a fine black bull enters, 
and when the bull is in the ring it is ' Viva toro ! ' 

The doomed animal comes on the stage with a bound, 
and not in the best humour, for he has been close 
penned since two o'clock that morning, and he has already 
received two little darts in his neck, placed there adroitly 
through a trap-door as he was entering. On the left of 
the entrance is a man on horseback with his spear in 
rest, looking very like one of the bull's herdsmen, only 
that he is dressed in yellow and is altogether smarter. 
The spear has a sharp point an inch long, and it is 
pressed into the bull's neck as he charges. But never 
mind that, the animal pushes his enemy hard, and gores 
the horse in its flank. On this the stallion, a fine grey, 
turns and delivers a volley of kicks, which, however, seem 
to produce no impression on the bull, who lifts him up 
behind, and at last, when driven off by the flags which 
are flapped in his face, he leaves the poor beast panting, 
and wounded to the death. It is now the turn of the 
chulos, who seem to be everywhere at once, and begin 
to tire the bull by tempting him to toss their many- 
coloured flags, and to pursue themselves up to the 
barrier, over which they leap. However, the animal, 
who is by this time maddened, consoles himself by 
goring a second horse, and also by trampling on the grey 
stallion, who is lying dead. The next picador, when 
charged, manages to turn aside the assault, at which 
the crowd applauds vehemently, ' Viva picador !' How- 



7o 



Over Volcanoes. 



ever, he is not equally successful soon afterwards ; for 
his mare is lifted off her legs, and pitched with himself 
half over the barrier. But, strange to say, she can 
rise again, and is made to do so with blows. So the 
horseman remounts, and takes a short canter, with re- 
sults too shocking for description. In the meanwhile 
the banderilleros, without any flag to draw off the 
attention of the bull, and armed only with a dart in each 
hand, have managed to stick these into the sides of the 
bull, and have escaped, apparently by miracle, uninjured. 
By this time the tortured animal has been tired down, 
and the opportunity of the matador, that is the killer, 
has come. Very gracefully then the gay, handsome, 
and sprucely dressed espada bows to the king, and pro- 
mises, if permitted to kill, to do his work deftly and 
well. On which the king returns the salute gravely, and 
grants the permission. The matador then with a red 
flag in his left hand, and a Toledo blade in the right, 
faces his victim. The two look fixedly at each other. 
And now the sword is raised to thrust, when the bull 
charges. On this, the man steps adroitly aside, and only 
the flag is tossed. This happens again, and once again. 
After which, as it is evident that the bull has too much 
energy left him, he is handed over once more to the 
chulos, who teaze him, while the matador watches pro- 
ceedings, and prepares himself for the final stroke. Soon 
the two chief performers in the tragedy are facing each 
other and preparing for the final struggle. Nor are 
they badly matched. The animal is fifty times as strong 
as the man, and armed by nature with weapons more 



At a 1 Corrida de Toros! 



deadly ; for his horns must be at least a yard across, 
and terribly sharp they are, as the gaping sides of four 
horses show plainly. But still the two-legged creature 
with the brain is too much for him. The opportunity 
looked for so patiently, and prepared so skilfully, comes 
at last. Suddenly there is a quick lunge, the sword is 
in the neck up to the hilt, and the bull is on his knees. 

Up to this time we had not thought of Mr. Stevens ; 
but now we remembered his presence, and were anxious 
to know how he had borne the terrible excitement of the 
last ten minutes. So both of us turned at once, and 
were shocked with what we saw. His rosy, honest, and 
handsome face was as white as a sheet, and he seemed to 
be on the point of fainting. 4 Give me some brandy,' 
cried he, ' or I shall die.' Fortunately the Junior, fore- 
seeing the probability of such a result, had provided 
himself with a flask. This he offered. After a deep 
draught, Mr. Stevens groaned out, ' Let us go ; I can't 
stand any more of this. Those poor horses ! Those 
poor horses ! ' 

' Wait one moment,' cried the Cashier ; ' we must 
see the mules drag out the slain.' To this he con- 
sented, and the team, with its gay harness and tinkling 
bells, seemed to revive him a little. So there was a 
short delay in moving, and before we could start, another 
bull had bounded into the arena. It was clearly impos- 
sible to get through a crowd of Spaniards, all closely 
packed, at such a moment ; so we resumed our seats, 
and our attention was soon riveted. 

On the left of the entrance, a picador stationed him- 



72 



Over Volcanoes. 



self as usual But this man was evidently an exception- 
ally resolute ruffian, and he rode a fine stallion. For be it 
remarked that on the occasion of the king's first visit, 
the horses were not knackers, nor even screws. On this 
point we (having seen the stud before the fight in the 
stables) had convinced ourselves. There was, then, a 
picador well mounted at the left of the door, and to him 
the bull, a coal black, rushed furiously. The man turned 
him very adroitly with his lance, and saved both himself 
and the animal which he rode, drawing blood freely. 
This feat, together with the brandy, revived Mr. Ste- 
vens, and he cried out, ' If that padded man in yellow, 
with the queer-shaped hat, brings his horse through the 
fight safely to-day, I'll give fifty pounds for the animal, 
and five pounds to the man. Tell him that, Kingsman, 
if you can speak enough Spanish/ It need hardly be 
said that the offer was not translated, neither was the 
money required. Indeed, Mr. Stevens was soon as un- 
comfortable and miserable as ever; the horses were 
killed on all sides, the brown stallion amongst the num- 
ber ; the chulos had to run for their lives, the bande- 
rilleroswere within an inch of being immolated, and, 
finally, the bull fell, cleverly slaughtered, just in front 
of the king. It was a successful performance, and loudly 
applauded by the Madrilenos, but not appreciated by 
Mr. Stevens. ' Come/ said he, ' come now, I will not 
stay a moment longer ; ' and I was obliged to go. 

' Can we pass ? ' I asked in Spanish. 

' If you like/ answered the Castilians, * but there are 



At a ' Corrida de Toros! 



73 



four more bulls. Surely you are not going away, 
Senores V 

' I think I will stay/ said the Cashier ; and he did 
remain, but Mr. Stevens and I forced our way out, while 
the team of mules was entering to carry off a dead bull 
and six dead horses. 



74 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

BUEN RETIRO Y EL REY. 

As soon as I had extricated my friend from the many 
passages of the Bull-ring, and had placed him in the 
open air, I enquired, 'Where shall we go now, sir?' 

' To a Protestant place of worship, if there is such a 
thing in Madrid,' replied he ; 'I want to ask pardon for 
having witnessed such sinful scenes of cruelty. Oh, what 
wretches these Spaniards must be to take a delight in 
looking at horses which are trampling out their own 
entrails. I suppose,' he added, 1 that all Madrid was 
there, for the building seemed to be quite full.' 

' There are two or three points which I want to settle,' 
replied I, ' in respect to these bull-fights. I want to 
know whether the best people of Madrid were there to- 
day, or only the riffraff ; and also to find out whether 
the slaughter of the horses does shock Spaniards.' 

1 Well, what did you think ? ' enquired he, 

i As regards the first question,' replied I, 1 the style of 
the spectators was not of the highest order, although 
the king was there. But, if we go into the Campos 
Eliseos, or the Buen Retiro, which are close by, we 
shall be able to see what sort of people are there. As 



Bum Retiro y el Rey. 



regards the second question, I must take an opportu- 
nity of talking with the Spaniards on the subject, for 
I am inclined to believe that they like the horse part 
of this amusement almost as little as we Englishmen do. 
Indeed, it seems impossible to suppose that a nation of 
caballeros, that is of horsemen, can delight in seeing 
the noble animal which they ride so well, treated so 
basely/ 

4 Well,' said Mr. Stevens, ' let us go to the Buen Retiro ; 
but I expect that no one is there to-day except nurse- 
maids and children.' 

He was agreeably disappointed. The gardens were 
full of people amusing themselves by boating on the 
formal piece of water, and in other ways. 

' I am glad that we came,' cried Mr, Stevens ; ' and 
very delighted to find that the respectable inhabitants 
of Madrid are not in those accursed shambles up yonder. 
I really think now that no one is in that building who 
would not be at a prize-fight in England.' 

1 But the king is there,' said I ; t and the sovereign 
in England does not go to a " mill." ' 

' Amadeo won't go often,' replied Mr. Stevens. ' He 
is too brave ; and the queen was not with him, nor any 
ladies. There was scarcely a female in the seats. Bull- 
fighting will die out soon, I hope.' 

1 I'm not so sure of that,' said I. ' It must be a cheap 
amusement, so many can enjoy it at the same time 
— eleven thousand here and seventeen thousand in Va- 
lencia, I hear. So the price need not be high.' 

' I know that I paid enough money,' replied Mr. 



7 6 



Over Volcanoes. 



Stevens, 1 something like two dollars for each ticket, 
and the expenses must be great. But let's see into this 
matter like men of business/ Accordingly the follow- 



ing account w r as made out : — 



20 horses 
6 bulls 
2 matadores 

1 extra matador 

2 banderilleros 
10 chulos 

4 picadores . 
Use of mule-team 



at £10 each 

10 ,, (dead loss) 
5° >> 



25 each 



^200 o 

60 o 

100 o 

30 o 

50 o 

50 o 



20 
2 



'That's a pretty good bill/ said the Senior; ' and I 
believe that I have underrated the cost Besides, there 
is nothing charged for the band. An average of a 
shilling a head would scarcely cover the outlay ; and, 
if the weather happens to be bad, the affair is put off, it 
seems.' 

' But the weather never is bad in Spain/ replied I. 
' What a pleasure it must be to live in a country where 
fetes are never spoiled by the rain !' 

' But how do people manage on blazing hot days ? ' 
asked Mr. Stevens. ' How do they do when the sun is 
in their eyes ? I paid an extra price to be in the shade, 
but there must be some in the sun, and those, I should 
think ; would see nothing. But they are the best off 
after all, for the whole affair is disgusting/ 

' Did you think that the king enjoyed himself?' 
asked I. ' I had my glass on him once or twice, and 
I could not make up my mind.' 



Buen Retiro y el Rey. 



77 



' He could not have liked to see the horses gored/ 
replied Mr. Stevens. ' Indeed, I very much doubt whether 
he is pleased with anything belonging to his situation 
in Spain. The grandees don't treat him well, by all 
accounts ; and they behave still worse to his pretty and 
good queen.' 

1 Why is that ? ' enquired I. 

' Because she has no royal blood in her veins. If I 
were Amadeo, I would leave the Spaniards to them- 
selves, and be content to aid in the regeneration of 
Italy, which may have a rough time with France before 
long.' 

i Let's see the king leave the Plaza de Toros,' I sug- 
gested. ' We shall perhaps be able to judge what his 
feelings have been, and also to gather the sentiments 
of the people towards him.' 

The proposal was accepted, and, returning from the 
Campos Eliseos, we stationed ourselves at the door 
where two royal carriages and a guard were in waiting. 
A very small number of people stood there, and most 
of them were of the lowest order. We scanned the 
raffish crowd anxiously, feeling it to be within the range 
of possibility that fire-arms would be produced w T hen 
the king came forth. But nothing of the sort occurred, 
nor was there any disapprobation, although some im- 
patience was shown at the delay. After a time, that is, 
when the last bull had been duly slaughtered, out came 
the king. He looked more pale when we stood close to 
him than he had seemed to be when seen at a distance, 
and he also was more sad, but still his eye flashed as 



78 



Over Volcanoes. 



resolutely as ever. Perhaps he felt the coldness of the 
people ; perhaps, also, he thought of the assassination of 
Prim, slaughtered at no great distance from the place 
where the royal carriage was now drawn up. Perhaps 
he had been disgusted by the sights which he had just 
witnessed ; perhaps he felt annoyed that none of his 
ministry were with him on this his first visit to the bulls. 
Absent, at all events, these statesmen were, although the 
papers had announced that Marshal Serrano, President 
of the Council and Minister of War, would come down 
from La Granja for the purpose of supporting his sove- 
reign on the occasion. However, for some reason or 
other, he was not present. 

By the side of Amadeo sat one obscure grandee ; 
opposite to him an unknown coroncl. With this freight 
the carriage drove off in complete silence. Behind it 
the guard formed, and the cortege preceded it 'at a 
slow pace towards the palace at the other end of the 
Coronada Villa. 

As for the people who were amusing themselves in 
the Campos Eliseos, the Retiro, and the Prado, they did 
not think it worth their while to walk a few yards for the 
purpose of greeting their sovereign. Those, also, who 
were streaming out of the Bull-ring took as little notice 
of him ; and no one evinced so much interest in his 
fortunes as the two Englishmen, who had never seen 
him before that day, and would probably never set eyes 
on him again. Pobre Amadeo Primero ! 



4 



The E scoria I. 



79 



CHAPTER XIV, 

THE ESCORIAL, 

1 1 HAVE a grand idea in my head/ said the Senior 
Partner one evening, when we were resting in our rooms 
at the Fonda de Paris, after a long day at the Escorial, 
ida y revuelta. ' I have made up my mind to bid for 
that big palace on which Philip II. spent such a lot of 
money so foolishly.' 

' But, sir,' said the Cashier, i it is used as a sort of 
seminary, besides being the burial-place of the royal 
family. You might as well talk of buying Westminster 
Abbey and the School/ 

' It is not half used/ he rejoined ; ' I saw nobody 
there except a few visitors like ourselves ; and as for the 
Italian royal family, Amadeo and his queen, they will 
never go near that palace, alive or dead. Besides, I 
don't mean to make the offer just now, but after the 
next revolution, when Roque Barcia, a true Republican, 
is Chancellor of the Spanish Exchequer. He will not 
refuse a good bid, I am sure.' 

' Well/ said the Cashier, ' if you do get the buildings,, 
what shall you do with them ? ' 

' I shall turn them into a water-cure establishment/ 



8o 



Over Volcanoes. 



replied Mr. Stevens gravely. ( It will be the grand- 
est place of the sort in the world, and will pay a 
handsome dividend. There are plenty of fountains in 
all directions, as might be expected from the near 
neighbourhood of such fine mountains. The air, too, for 
the same reason, is fresh and bracing, the walks are 
charming, especially those which lead through the wood 
to the little house of the prince. The Guadarrama range 
is nearly as grand as the Alps, and there is railway 
communication to all parts of the world.' 

'Where are the funds to come from?' enquired the 
Cashier. 

' It will take a lot of money to start the scheme, I 
know/ explained Mr. Stevens. t But money is nothing 
to an English Firm of high standing ; the only question 
is whether there will be a good interest, and to this I 
see my way. Of course, I shall have English physi- 
cians and English surgeons, for the Spanish doctors are 
still Sangrados. So every Spaniard, who has money 
and brains, will come, when he is ill, to the Escorial to 
be cured.' 

' But do you believe in hydropathy ? ' I asked. 

' Not a bit of it,' replied he ; ' that is, I don't believe 
there is anything in it for people like you and me, 
who have been used to washing ourselves every morn- 
ing, but it is a very fine system of therapeutics for those 
who have been satisfied with cat-licking their skin ; 
and that's the fashion in this country, where water is 
more scarce than wine. Just look at the Arlanzon at 
Burgos, and the Manzanares at Madrid. You see plenty 



The Escorial. 



8x 



of fine bridges, but no river, only a dusty place which 
looks like a gravel-pit. No, the Spaniards don't wash, 
and they can't wash at present. So hydropathy will be 
a fine thing for them ! ' 

' There is a good deal of truth in what you say,' 
replied the Cashier : ' and the women are still less 
cleanly than the men ; they cover the brown dirt on their 
faces with a white dirt in the shape of powder ; and 
if they serve the rest of their bodies in the same w r ay, 
hydropathy will work wonders on their constitutions/ 

' Ay,' said Mr. Stevens, 6 my establishment will 
soon mend all this. We will have a book written in 
Spanish about health and baths, &c. But w T e must 
not offend the women by saying too much against their 
powder, filthy as the habit of using it is. We must touch 
that fashion gently.' 

' But/ suggested the Cashier, ' nothing that is new will 
answer in Spain. One never sees any advertisements of 
quack medicines in the " Correspondencia de Espana." ' 

6 Nevertheless,' replied I, i Holloway's and Morrison's 
remedies are in every chemist's shop. I have been en- 
quiring for Cockle's pills, which I cannot find, but I 
could always have the ointment, or the universal medi- 
cine, if I liked. So novelties of that sort can make their 
way across the Pyrenees, if they are well pushed.' 

'And now, gentlemen,' said Mr. Stevens, 'how many 
shares will each of you take in the Escorial Water-Cure 
Establishment ? You must apply at once, or there will 
be none in the market. Why the very name is an adver- 
tisement' 

G 



82 



Over Volcanoes. 



4 Would not Aranjuez be a better situation V I asked, 

' Not cool enough in summer/ replied Mr. Stevens, 
6 Besides, there are no real mountains there, only a few 
hills ; and although there is plenty of water, it does not 
flow fresh and cool as at the Escorial. No; the Escorial 
is the spot. Splendid douches we shall have! Then 
what a pleasant walk that will be to the Villa del Rey, 
from which, as they say, Philip the Second used to 
watch the construction of his gridiron palace. And we 
must have excursions to La Granja, to which palace 
Amadeo will often go, for he is fond of hunting, and he 
will give a day's sport, no doubt, to Englishmen.' 

' Above all,' said the Cashier, c your patients will have 
an opportunity of spending a few hours at Madrid when 
they like, and I can conceive no higher gratification for 
anyone who is fond of pictures. Who indeed can know 
Velasquez, or Murillo, or even Titian, to say nothing of 
Pantoja and Juanes, without visiting the Gallery at 
Madrid ? And who would tire of looking at such finished 
and life-like compositions ? ' 

'Yes,' said Mr. Stevens, 'and the Armoury of the 
crowned city, as the Spaniards call Madrid, is in its way 
equally good. It will indeed be a great advantage to be 
within thirty miles of the capital, with a railroad the 
whole way. Then there is Segovia, only six miles from 
La Granja. Segovia, with its marvellous aqueduct, 
Puente del Diablo, as the Spaniards call it, and its 
Cathedral, one of the finest in Spain, and the last of the 
pure Gothic — ' 

4 And the Alcazar, where Gil Bias was confined/ 



The E scoria L 



33 



added I. 1 What materials for a puff ! What a neigh- 
bourhood to describe !' 

'You have forgotten the walls of Avila/ cried the 
Cashier. 'That place is not above forty miles off. And 
there is direct railway communication with it, and some 
of the most extraordinary tunnelling on the way/ 

i What is the Escorial worth ? 9 enquired Mr. Stevens. 

' They say/ replied the Cashier, ' that it cost ten mil- 
lions sterling. And I can easily believe that this sum, or 
even more, was expended on it, for everything about it 
is most massive and magnificent. Can anything, for 
instance, be more gorgeous than the royal vault ? But 
as for that, and the library, with its books turned the 
wrong way, and the enormous chapel — what could you 
do with all these ? 9 

' The church would not be a bit too large for our con- 
gregation/ replied Mr. Stevens. My establishment, in 
fact, shall be the Great Eastern of water-cures. I shall 
have an American, of course, to manage the hotel part of 
the business, and a chaplain who is a grand preacher to 
take care of the morals of all, and to marry the young 
people, who will fall in love with each other in the whis- 
pering-gallery.' 

'There is only one objection to your plan/ said the 
Cashier, ' but that is a serious one. The Escorial, what- 
ever Revolutions may occur, will never be in the market, 
although it is true that the present King of Spain is 
not likely to use it as a palace, and that the 1 80 youths, 
who receive a secular education there, do not half fill 
it/ 



8 4 



Over Volcanoes. 



'There are 140 students for the priesthood to be 
added/ said I. 

( However that may be, it is certain/ continued Mr. 
Stevens, 'that the Escorial is not half occupied. The 
cost of keeping it up must be immense. And nothing 
would be better for Spain than to find a purchaser at a 
good price/ 

' But/ said the Cashier, 1 there are no utilitarians, or 
common-sense people, in this country. Everybody, even 
the Radical, exaggerates the glories of Spain, which is, 
with the Spaniard, the first country in the world, and all 
refuse to look truths in the face. No one, for instance, 
has any doubt that the victory of St. Quentin, which 
caused the Escorial to be erected, was won by Philip, 
with the help of San Lorenzo of the Gridiron, whereas it 
really was gained by D'Egmont with his Flemish in- 
fantry, and the English under Lord Pembroke, with 
Philibert of Savoy at the head of all. So no one, not even 
Roque Barcia, will part either with the Escorial or with 
Cuba. A national bankruptcy would be preferred to 
any such sacrifices. But of course you were only joking 
w r hen you talked of such a purchase/ 

' Of course I was/ replied Mr. Stevens. c But I do 
think that a water-cure establishment would be just the 
thing for Spaniards, and that the Escorial would be such 
a capital situation that one might expect visitors to go to 
it from all parts of the world. And, without any joke, I 
don't see why that half-finished palace of Don Francisco's 
might not be purchased for that purpose. But of course 
the affair is no business of ours. However, there is no 



The E scoria L 



85 



harm in throwing out the suggestion, and it is to be 
hoped that anyone who really takes it up will regard me 
as the promoter, and reward me for my idea with a 
hundred paid-up shares in the Grand Water-Cure Esta- 
blishment of the Escorial. , 

'And I,' said the Junior, 'will, on the same terms, write 
the indispensable book; and of this I am sure that the 
"Bubbles of the Escorial " will repay the visitors a 
thousand times better than those of the Brunnen. More- 
over, the Guadarrama mountains are almost as acces- 
sible nowadays as the little hills of Nassau were fifty 
years ago/ 

' Hush ! no such word as bubbles must be mentioned/ 
said Mr. Stevens. 1 Remember it will be a joint-stock 
company, and bubble might be suggestive. You will 
call the book " The Fountains of the Escorial," or 
" Under the Snows of the Guadarrama/' ' 

6 " A cool idea ! " will be the criticism of the " Satur- 
day " in either case/ cried the Cashier. 



86 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XV. 

PUENTE DE ALCOLEA. 

Whether all the country lying between Madrid and 
Cordova is interesting and pretty, Stevens & Co. can- 
not say. For they passed Argamasilla de Alba and 
La Venta de Cardenas, places sacred to Don Quixote, 
in the night. They went over also, without noticing it, 
the railway bridge of Vilches, which must have tottered 
under their weight, for, with the very next train, it sank 
down, billing five out of six of those who were on it at 
the time. But when the beautiful spring morning broke, 
and the three friends were able to look about them, they 
could not help being pleased. On each side of the rail- 
way, its banks were covered with flowers ; there were 
hedges of aloes for miles, and the gum-cistus, which was 
in blossom, seemed as common as gorse in England. 
Regularly, too, when the train stopped at any station, 
however insignificant, the two gendarmes appeared with 
cocked hats, black and shining, black knee-breeches, 
black gaiters, blunderbusses and swords. Nor did 
they ever fail to glance carefully, yet quickly, into 
each carriage, as it passed by where they stood at ease. 
In fact it was evident that they took stock accurately of 



Puente de A Icolea. 



87 



the whole concern, and were prepared both to discover 
bad subjects, and to deal with them when found. 

' The Spaniards/ said the Senior, ' spend a great deal . 
of money very foolishly on these policemen, and the 
men would be better employed in cutting up some of 
the weeds by the side of the line/ 

'The Spanish Government has many faults,' replied 
the Cashier, ' but as regards the Guardia Civil they are 
right. For the corps, like that of the Irish Police, is a 
very fine one, and we are indebted to its care for our 
safety at this moment/ 

' How so ? ' enquired Mr. Stevens. 

' You must remember that we are treading over vol- 
canoes/ replied the Cashier ; ' and I can assure you that, 
if the railway were not watched, the carriages would soon 
be thrown off the line, and the passengers pillaged/ 

This conversation took place at Menjibar, where a 
pause of twenty minutes was allowed for the almiierzo. 
This consisted of omelet, fish, roast mutton, potatoes, 
oranges, biscuits, wine, coffee, &c, the price being twelve 
reals, and the hour 9 A.M. It was rather early for dinner, 
but the meal was highly relished under the circumstances, 
and the talk continued after we had reseated ourselves 
in the carriage. 

' I don't believe/ said the Senior, ' that travelling is 
more dangerous here than in England. You tell me that 
a stone was found on the rails the other day, just about 
where we are ; that the Guardia Civil saw some men, 
and fired twice on them ; but the same thing, except the 
firing, might happen at home/ 



88 



Over Volcanoes. 



' Well/ said I, ' however that may be, I can assure 
you that there would have been wild work in this coun- 
try, if a battle, which was fought somewhere about here 
three years ago, had turned out differently/ 

i Where are we now V asked Mr. Stevens. 

' At Las Ventas de Alcolea,' replied I ; 1 and although 
the affair was a small one in point of numbers and of 
strategy, it may hereafter be regarded as one of the 
decisive battles of the world. At all events, it has 
already produced great results in Spain, and it promises 
to produce more, of which your purchase of the Esco- 
rial may be one. For here, or rather at the Bridge 
of Alcolea, the Marquis de Novaliches, the last hope 
of Isabella Segunda, engaged the insurgent army of 
Serrano, which was marching northward from its base 
in the Bay of Cadiz, where the fleet of Admiral Topete, 
and the 80,000/. of Montpensier, had made a pro- 
nunciamento. Happily, the marquis failed to arrest 
its march. But if he had succeeded, what would have 
happened ? This, undoubtedly : Isabella, and Marfori, 
and Father Clarete, and the Bleeding Nun, would soon 
have found their way back to Madrid from St. Sebastian, 
to which they had retreated. Then the queen, all the 
more angry after the fright, would have insisted upon 
making signal examples. So there would have been 
fusillades once more before the gas-works in Seville; 
after which the bodies of Reformers in Church and State 
would have been cast aside, as though they had been 
the carcasses of dogs, and all these proceedings the in- 
fallible Pope would have sanctified with the present of 
another golden rose/ 



Puente de Alcolea. 



8 9 



' Bad work, indeed/ said Mr. Stevens. 

Here I made a speech. ' This was prevented by Ser- 
rano's victory. And General Prim, appearing upon the 
scene, declared for the dethronement of Isabella^ which 
step was regarded by many as the commencement of a 
Republic. Accordingly, the Revolutionists in Church 
and State took heart, and Carrasco, the Latimer of 
Spain, with Alhama, in stoutness its Luther, discharged 
themselves from their prison, and appealed for tolera- 
tion. This demand was granted by the Marquis de 
Castillejo, better known in England as Prim. Nor 
could it be refused. The military prommciamento 
owed much to these ex-priests, and to the religious 
party with which they were connected. Indeed it may 
almost be said that dissatisfaction with the Romish 
Church was at the bottom of the revolt. For great 
as were the scandals which existed in the Court, in 
the army, and the legislature, they did not touch the 
people so closely as the abuses of religion with which 
the queen had identified herself. Whether the scan- 
dalous tales told of the priests and nuns everywhere, 
but especially at Cadiz, were true or false, it could 
not be denied that the clergy were in the habit of 
selling the most sacred services of their Church. On 
this Carrasco and Alhama commented thus : " You, 
O Romish priests ! tell us that baptism from your 
hands is necessary, and that without this rite the little 
children of the great Spanish people will be in flames 
to all eternity. This we believed, or attempted to 
believe once ; but now we deny it. However, supposing 



go 



Over Volcanoes. 



that to be true which you say, how do you act ? The 
child of a poor water-carrier — a man next door to a 
beggar — is brought to you. ' Give this poor baby/ cry 
the parents, 'the holy water and the sacred words/ 
' Give me two dollars/ you reply. Two dollars ! How 
can they find two dollars ? They have not so much as 
two reals. Is, then, the child baptised ? No : it must 
wait without a name and without grace, until you have 
been paid the two dollars. Is that the religion of 
Christ ? Is that a specimen of holy love to man for 
God's sake ? Another day, the wives of these poor 
Spaniards die, and they, trusting creatures, were your 
best friends. Will you get them out of your Purga- 
tory ? Again there must be the two dollars, always 
the two dollars, or else these women must remain in 
torments." To this the priests replied — when they 
condescended to reply otherwise than by imprison- 
ment and excommunication — that the Church had been 
robbed by the State over and over again, and that 
ecclesiastics, like other people, must live. But the 
rejoinder was overwhelming. " Decrease your num- 
bers. Three hundred priests are not wanted in Seville, 
and cannot find honest work to do there. Besides/' 
Carrasco continued, " if you must tax any sacred rites, 
get your money out of marriages and burials, but 
don't prevent people from being baptised, which, ac- 
cording to you, is an essential sacrament And if you 
can free people from Purgatory, don't leave them there 
whilst their friends are finding the money for their 
release." Castelar, too, the great orator, worked the 



Puente de Alcolea. 



9i 



religious side of the question with great effect. " Car- 
dinal," he is reported to have said one day to the Arch- 
bishop of Seville, "why is Juan Ribera of Valencia 
called El Santo ?" " Because," replied the Cardinal, " he 
was canonised in 1797." "But why was he canonised ?" 
persisted Castelar. " Because," replied the prelate, " he 
was Primate of Valencia forty-two years." "Not so," 
rejoined Castelar. "That is not the reason why he is 
a saint of yours. He was canonised because he had 
been a ferocious persecutor. Because he had killed his 
hundreds and his thousands in cold blood. And so he 
is a holy man on earth, but he is not in heaven. No 
— vive Dios — no. I can understand that a man is a 
saint who has fed the hungry and clothed the naked, 
and healed the sick, and preached good news to the 
poor ; good news, Senor Cardinal, both of this world 
and of the next. Such a man I can honour while 
he is living, and reverentially regret after he is dead. 
But a pious assassin, a doctrinal murderer, an eccle- 
siastical hangman, a matador of his fellow-creatures. 
He a santol No, he is a diablo ! And his place is 
not in heaven, Senor Cardinal, ' pero en el otro lugar, 
y muy ardiente.' " Such harangues as these, made at 
great hazard, excited the people greatly, and the de- 
struction of religious buildings showed that the pronun- 
ciamento was even more against the Church than the 
queen. The destruction of property which occurred, all 
sober-minded persons must deplore, but the responsibility 
of such excesses belongs as much to the tyranny which 
causes the revolt, as to the temporary anarchy which 



92 



Over Volcanoes. 



accompanies it And when we remember how scan- 
dalous the state of Spain was before the battle of Puente 
de Alcolea, and reflect upon the sanguinary executions 
which would have followed upon the triumph of the 
queen, it is impossible not to rejoice that Novaliches, 
shattered and beaten, was obliged to give up his hold 
on the grand bridge of Charles III., with its twenty 
arches of dark marble, and to leave, as Pedro Echavarre 
had done, the road open for the conqueror/ 

' And probably/ added the Cashier, 4 the Duke de 
Montpensier is convinced by this time that he ought to 
have been at Puente de Alcolea, and has found out that 
princes who wish for thrones which are not theirs by 
right of inheritance must peril in the pursuit something 
more precious than their money/ 

i At present/ continued I, ' all is not exactly as it 
should be in Spain. But it will be a blessing for that 
country if its future revolutions are carried on in the 
cabinet and chamber of deputies, instead of in the field. 
So that in years to come, Puente de Alcolea may be 
memorable as having witnessed the last battle between 
Spaniards on their own soil/ 

' Bravo ! bravo ! 9 cried my friends. 



Cordova. 



93 



CHAPTER XVI. 

CORDOVA. - 

THE whole of Spain, from one end to the other, reminds 
a traveller of that strange and ill-defined country which 
we call the East. Everywhere, either near or in the 
distance, one sees arid and barren rocks which encircle 
valleys teeming with tropical fertility when continually 
irrigated, but otherwise as dry and hard as roads. 
There are also the remains of strong fortifications, and 
the ruins of magnificent buildings : all of which point to 
that bygone greatness and present decline, which features 
are so characteristic of Oriental climes. But the most 
Eastern of all the cities in Spain is Cordova. It is true 
that at Elche, and at other places on and near the 
Mediterranean, the palm-trees are more abundant, and 
the yellow dates hang down from their feathered crowns 
in more gigantic clusters. But the massive semi-ruinous 
ramparts, which stretch to the banks of the Guadalquivir 
and rua almost parallel with its stream, the remains of 
the old tan-pits, where the famous leather was prepared 
by the Moors long ago, and above all the Mesquita, or 
Cathedral, are features of an Eastern picture not pre- 
sented so prominently anywhere else in the Peninsula 
as at Cordova. 



94 



Over Volcanoes. 



And this remark applies especially to that Mosque 
which Abdu-r-rhaman, copying the famous building at 
Damascus, began in 786. Disfigured as it was by 
Bishop Alonso Manrique in 1523, the sight of this 
structure at once carries the mind away to Cairo or 
Morocco. In Europe it is unique. The coro spoils 
the illusion a little, no doubt, and the lateral chapels 
are disappointing, but the 1,000 pillars and the horse- 
shoe arches are still there ; and the ceca, with the 
foot-worn pavement, which the Moslem pilgrim com- 
passed seven times, speaks of Mecca and Mahomet. 
These are the real wonders of the Cathedral, although 
the guide imagines that the traveller must be more 
interested in the cross, which some Christian captive 
once scratched with his nail on a pillar. 

i A wonderful church,' exclaimed Mr. Stevens, < but a 
very awkward one to preach in. It's like a nest of 
cloisters. And then the coro, it's worse than one of 
our cathedrals in England, with the choir railed off.' 

' No,' replied the Cashier, ' it is much better. The 
Spanish arrangement seems far superior to ours. For 
here the people, kneeling in that part which they call 
" entre los cores," can get closer to the altar than any of 
the priests, excepting those who are actually celebrating 
the mass. And who will tell me that the poor woman 
yonder at the reja, with her face hidden in her black 
mantilla, is not nearer to the Kingdom of Heaven than 
that fat mumbler in a red tippet and white frock, who 
is leerkig at her from his seat, while he chants ? ' 

' There are ninety- nine women to every man in this 



Cordova. 



95 



cathedral, and in every other church/ said Mr. Stevens, 
\ of course not including priests. Now what I want to 
know, Mr. Cashier, is, whether there will be the same 
disproportion in the other world V 

' I can't answer that question/ replied he ; ' but I will 
tell you what I think, which is, that if there were priest- 
esses and no priests, these numbers might be reversed. 
At all events, I am sure that the ladies would not value 
the ministrations of their own sex, and would begin to 
doubt whether the most solemn duty of one human 
being is to hear another talk a good deal of trash about 
the most sacred mysteries/ 

4 1 should entirely agree with them, if they came to 
that conclusion/ said I. * Our Vicar is a trial, especially 
when he preaches extempore/ Then Mr. Stevens 
chimed in : * Only one sermon of our Lord has been 
handed down to us, not one hundred and fifty; and that 
one contains exhortations to be humble, loving, tender- 
hearted, merciful, &c, but it does not tell us that we 
must go to church twice a day, and listen to two or 
three long discourses every week. So I am inclined to 
think that the number of women in heaven will not be 
much greater than that of men, although they prepon- 
derate so unmistakeably in the congregations of every 
denomination on earth.' 

The above conversation, which had been begun in 
the Mosque itself, was continued in the Court of Oranges 
outside, and not concluded when, having passed through 
the Puerta del Perdon, the . three friends stood in the 
street beyond. On our right was a church, which had 



96 



Over Volcanoes. 



over its gateway a sculptured group of the Virgin and 
Child. Just at that moment it had been rendered 
complete ; for a dove, alighting on the Saviours Head, 
rested there. High in the air, above the Cathedral, a 
cloud of hawks, as numerous as swifts are elsewhere, 
circled round the nests which they had made for 
themselves in the crannies of the numerous roofs, and 
the old birds were descending from time to time with 
food for their young. Pointing out to his companions 
these different objects, the Cashier took up his parable, 
and said : ' Look at the types of men, and of women. 
Look at those hawks, ever on the move, never resting, 
fierce, cruel, insatiable, bloodthirsty. These are the 
men. Now turn to the dove. See how she is seeking 
safety with the Divine Child, content to be at rest and 
in peace. There is womanhood. And it seems to me 
that both' in respect to better attendance in God's house, 
and in other matters hardly more important, we men 
might do well to imitate that sex at which we are so 
ready to sneer/ 

To this Mr. Stevens laughingly replied: 'A very 
poetical idea, and one which would recommend you 
to my daughter, or to any other young lady. But tell 
me. Supposing there are future worlds for pigeons and 
hawks, do you really think that more of the former than 
of the latter will be in happiness for ever ? 1 

' Certainly/ cried I, striking in, ' if they are like 
women.' 

* I did not ask you ; I want to know what the Cashier 
thinks, for I am aware that he is somewhat of a divine.' 



Cordova. 



97 



1 Doves are certainly more gentle, loving, and peace- 
ful than hawks,' suggested the Cashier. 

'That is,' rejoined Mr. Stevens, ' because they can live 
on peas and clover, and have no hooked beaks.' 

' A dangerous doctrine to preach,' replied the Cashier, 
1 if you admit the resemblance which I have pointed 
out We should have everybody excusing himself for 
doing wrong by pleading that his nature led him to it.' 

' But I don't admit that your resemblance exists at 
all. It is only fanciful, not real. God made hawks to 
prey on pigeons, and He can't be angry with them for 
acting up to the instincts on which their existence de- 
pends ; but He did not create men to be hawkish. He 
did, however, make it necessary that we should work, 
and accordingly the commandment which bids us rest 
on one day of the week, also bids us labour during the 
remainder. Which being the case, it seems to me that 
any woman who neglects her home duties, in order to 
go to church, is very much mistaken in supposing that 
she is doing herself any good.' 

' I entirely agree with you/ I said, i and the remark is 
still more true of a man.' 

'And I also/ added the Cashier, 'agree. Nothing 
can be more true than this, that man must work, and 
Cordova has produced many who have done their duty 
bravely. Seneca, for instance, a hard student, and a 
writer full of pith ; Lucan too, and others about whom 
I know nothing.' 

' But the chief hero of all,' said I, s is the great Cap- 
tain or Constable of Spain, Gonzalo de Cordova, who 



98 



Over Volcanoes. 



was baptised in the Church of San Nicolas here. I 
should like to read to vou, when we return to the Fonda 
de Suiza, what another Gonzalez, also a soldier, although 
better known as the most popular novelist of modern 
Spain, says of him/ 

Accordingly after dinner on that evening the follow- 
ing passage from ' Don Juan Tenorio ' was read i 1 — 

6 Gonzalo de Cordoba estaba favorecido por Dios con uno 
de esos semblantes que por si solos hacen amigos. Su valiente 
mirada, por la cual podia llegarse al fondo de su alma, era 
franca, radiante, limpida, tranquila : jamas aquellos ojos insul- 
taron al amenazar, ni sus palabras bravearon, ni sus labios 
produjeron la sonrisa del desprecio 6 del desden. Si un hombre 
se atrevio a ofenderle, su espada fue siempre mas pronta que su 
lengua, y si aquel hombre llevo la cabeza coronada, si aquel 
hombre pudo tener algun lugar en el animo de la reina, supo 
como nadie aparentar la ignorancia del agravio para no ponerse 
bajo el ridiculo del sufrimiento. Si Dona Isabel de Castilla 
era una reina de hecho, Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordoba era un 
rey de corazon/ 

' A very pretty language,' said Mr. Stevens, ' and 
possibly intelligible to those who remember their Latin. 
But that is not the case with me ; so pray tell us what 
all those fine words mean. 1 

Thus invited, the Junior rendered this description 
of the great Captain of Spain into English, as follows : 
— 'Gonzalo de Cordova was blessed by God with one of 

1 Don Manuel Fernandez y Gonzalez, the author of Don Juan Tenorio, 
was born in Seville in 1821, and brought up at Granada. He served in 
the army and left it in 1847, a Sargento Primero, and a Chevalier of the 
Military Order of San Fernando. He has been a very prolific writer of 
novels, historical and otherwise, plays, poetry, and essays. 



Cordova. 



99 



those faces which of themselves make friends. His 
brave eyes, through which one could see into the depths 
of his soul, were frank, bright, soft, and still. Nor 
did any look from them convey an insult or a threat. 
Never were his w r ords boastful, nor did his lips curl with 
the sneer of depreciation or of disdain. If anyone ven- 
tured to offend him, his sword was always more ready 
than his tongue, and if the offender happened to tower 
above him with a crowned head, or had a share in the 
heart of the queen, he knew — no one better — how to 
feign an ignorance of the insult, so as not to subject 
himself to the derision which accompanies endurance. 
If Dona Isabel of Castille was queen in fact, Gonzalo 
Fernandez de Cordova was the king of men's hearts.' 

' A true portrait, no doubt,' said Mr. Stevens, ' and I 
dare say that the Captain was a great man in his day ; 
but I suspect that he could neither read nor write.' 

' He could do the first, at all events,' replied I, 
' if Florian 1 is to be believed. For in "La Conquista 
de Granada " it is written, i Gonzalo, palido, turbado, 
lee dos veces el papel, y vuelve a buscar a Isabel.' 

This the Cashier understood without a translation, 
and he asked, 'What did the paper say which Gonzalo 
de Cordova read twice ? ' 

* It said, " Gonzalo, come and free me ; my heart must 
not be your reward, for that I cannot give twice : my 
hand only will pay you for what you do for my father." ' 

' That's a bit from a trashy French novel/ cried Mr. 

1 These quotations are from the Spanish translation of Florian by Don 
Juan Lopez de Penaler. 

H 2 



IOO 



Over Volcanoes. 



Stevens, ' and therefore no evidence at all, any more than 
the other. I am ashamed of you for relying on such 

stuff/ 

' Well, listen to the end of the story/ said I. 

6 Gonzalo recibio la mano de Zulema. Muley, vencido 
por sus virtudes, consentio a Uamarle su hijo sin dejar 
de amar a su hija, aunque siguiera la ley de los Cris- 
tianos," — and then " el mayor de los heroes, el mas fiel 
de los amigos, y la mas amable esposa, empezaron una 
larga sucesion de dias afortunados y gloriosos." ' 1 

' All this would be very appropriate/ said the Cashier, 
' in a chapter on Granada, for I suppose it refers to that 
famous siege, but it has not much to do with Cordova/ 

' At all events/ I replied, ' I have introduced you to 
two Spanish novels, an original and a translation, both of 
which are very popular. And you may also see that 
Cordova produced the most famous of all Spanish 
heroes/ 

( And/ added the Cashier, ' the finest horses ; I under- 
stand that the best in the world are bred near here at 
Alcolea, or rather at La Regalada. But what would a 
caballero be without his caballo, or without his bulls?' 
said I. t The pastures of Cordova are famous for both. 
We shall pass plenty of herds on our way to Seville/ 

1 4 Gonzalo received the hand of Zulema. Muley, conquered by his 
virtues, consented to call him his son, without ceasing to love his daughter, 
although she might follow the law of the Christians,' — and then 'the 
greatest of heroes, the most faithful of friends, and the most amiable of 
vives began a long succession of glorious and prosperous days.' 



John. 



101 



CHAPTER XVII. 

JOHN. 

Between Cordova and Seville there is not much to be 
seen except Carmona, and at that place the travellers 
did not stop. The journey, however, was very interesting. 
It was pleasant to pass through rich pastures, where the 
grass stood up to the knees of the cattle, which dogs 
and men guarded, in unfenced plains of enormous ex- 
tent. This at least was the case with the ordinary 
herds, but more care seemed to be taken of the young 
toros of the famous Cordovese breed ; for in the valley 
of the Guadalquivir, between Cordova and Villarubia, a 
wide district is walled in. It need only be added that 
the crops of wheat, beans, and barley, were very fine ; 
that olive-yards and orange-groves abounded; and at 
5.30 Seville was reached. 

The enjoyment of a visit to this city, especially if it 
be the first, depends greatly on the plan adopted. If 
you engage no lacayo you will see little, and know 
little, although you may have Bradshaw, and O'Shea, 
and even Murray to help you. If you have a bad 
lacayo you will be tired and bored, and hear more than 
you want to hear ; but if you have the good fortune to 



102 



Over Volcanoes. 



secure John, your time, unless you are hard to please, 
will be spent very enjoy ably and profitably. 

But before John is introduced to the reader, it will be 
as well to say how we became acquainted with him. 
Thus, then, it happened. On arriving at the Fonda de 
Paris by the omnibus from the railway station, the Junior 
descended from the box, which was his usual post, and 
the two more dignified travellers emerged from the inte- 
rior. The Cashier handed to the Junior his cloak, which 
had been placed inside to secure seats while the luggage 
was being overhauled by the carabineros of the Aduana. 

6 Thank you/ said the Junior, ' but where is my um- 
brella ? I would not lose it for any money/ 

' Why/ said Mr. Stevens, 6 should you bother yourself 
and us with an umbrella ? We have seen no rain 1 since 
Ave left France, and I'm told that there will be none 
until October. However, your umbrella is gone now, 
and I'm not sorry/ 

The Junior repeated his former words, 1 1 would not 
lose that umbrella for any money/ 

' Why it's worth nothing/ cried Mr. Stevens, laughing. 
i It was an old one when our little Anne presented it to 
you ; although, if I recollect aright, you fished it up out 
of our mere by diving for it one night when we had 
given it up for lost. At all events, it is gone this time, 
and I'll provide you with another, a regular Spanish 
paragnas, with a Toledo blade in it/ 

However, the Junior was not consoled. Perhaps the 

1 There had been heavy rain while the travellers were at the Escorial. 
And, by the bye, the Fonda Miranda, where we stayed, deserves a better 
report than the Guide -Books give of it. 



John. 103 

fa:ts referred to by the Senior made that umbrella 
the more dear to him. At all events, he was much 
troubled in" his mind, and he had no sooner found rooms 
for himself and friends than, leaving them abruptly, 
he set out at full trot for the station, to the great asto- 
nishment of all bystanders. Only once he stopped to 
ask the way, and then the Spaniard, hoping for a peseta, 
proposed to show him in person, but the pace was too 
killing for an Andalusian, and muttering 4 Un Ingles, 
un loco ! ' the would-be guide pulled up, and gave in. 

At the station the officials evidently expected the 
announcement of a pronunciamento y or something of 
the sort, and they looked astonished when the Junior 
merely enquired for his lost paraguets. However, they 
proceeded, smiling, to take the description of it, and the 
precious umbrella, with the greyhound's head and ini- 
tials, which were not those of Mr. A. Kingsman, again 
gladdened the eyes of that gentleman. 

The treasure having been thus recovered, I set off on 
my return to the hotel with speed almost equal to the 
previous pace ; for I expected that my friends might 
be in difficulties from which it was my business, as in- 
terpreter, to protect them. And a row there was, or 
rather there had been. 

' So I see you 've got your shabby old gingham,' cried 
Mr. Stevens ; ' but I hope that you won't run after it 
just when we want you another time. We have had 
a precious disturbance, and although perhaps you might 
not have done us much good, you ought to have been 
here to tell us what these fellows meant.' 



104 



Over Volcanoes. 



I looked round, and took in the state of affairs at 
a glance. The house where we had found rooms was 
a Casa de Huespedes of the Fonda de Paris, and close 
to that hotel in the Plaza Magdalena. It had a 
pleasant patio, or court ; and here, in the midst of the 
orange-trees and the old china, was a man with an 
Andalusian hat and a red sash round his loins. He was 
a handsome, sturdy, black-eyed fellow, and he still 
looked angry. With him were two men in blouses 
equally disturbed. By himself, that is, apart from the 
Englishmen and Spaniards, was a gentleman about fifty 
years old, with a smooth shabby black coat and trow- 
sers to match. He seemed rather amused, and from 
time to time he took a pinch of snuff. 

' That blackguard/ cried Mr. Stevens, pointing to the 
Andalusian with the red sash, ' wanted to charge us two 
dollars, that is 8s. 4d., for riding from the station, 
and these two other fellows asked a dollar more 
for moving our three portmanteaux a couple of yards, 
that is, from the custom-house counter to the omnibus. 
And what is more, we must have paid this exorbitant 
sum (for we did not know what they said) if this gentle- 
man here, who speaks very tolerable English, had not 
come into the yard to help us.* 

'And, by the bye/ continued he, turning to the 
man in black, ' I have not the pleasure of knowing 
your name, sir, but I hope, if you are not engaged, 
that you will dine with us at the table d'hote to-night/ 

I I thank you, sir, very much/ replied the gentleman 



John. 



in black, ' but I cannot accept your kind invitation, for 
I am a commissionnaire/ 

' A commissionnaire, is he ? ' said Mr. Stevens. ' A sort 
of judge, I suppose, and therefore too great a man to 
dine at a public table with us.' 

Upon this, I explained that the difficulty as regarded 
the acceptance of the irivitation lay in an opposite 
direction, and that the commissionnaire was in fact a 
laquais de place. This account the person in ques- 
tion corroborated, and, adding that his name was 
John, placed himself at the service of the travellers. 
On which Mr. Stevens, who was impressed in the 
man's favour, informed him that he might consider him- 
self engaged. 

' But what is your charge ? ' enquired I, moved to do 
so by the recollection of the Gil Bias at Burgos. 

6 A dollar and a half a day,' replied the laquais ; and 
the bargain was concluded accordingly. 

So, under the care of John, we saw Seville from 
one end to the other. We drove one evening to 
the bull pastures, on the banks of the Guadalquivir, 
where the moribundi of the next day were taking 
a last meal ; and the w T hole herd, with their jingling 
bells, following a tame animal, and under an escort of 
ganaderos, who looked very like picadores, passed within 
a few yards of us. What splendid animals they were ! 
All black, except their leader, which was brown, with 
horns at least a yard across, and crests magnificent. 
It was a striking sight ; and so was the drive itself, 

■ 

■ 



io6 



Over Volcanoes. 



for the way wound across meadows, amidst equipages 
of all sorts, and caballeros of Andalusia mounted on 
their grand stallions. 

We saw also the Plaza de Toros, quietly in the 
morning, when no one except ourselves was there, and 
we inspected all the arrangements, than which nothing 
could be more complete. There also we saw one of 
those fine dogs which are called for when the bulls refuse 
to face the spears, or behave themselves unseemly in 
any way. Only once did any of us get into trouble while 
at Seville, and then John was absent. This adventure, 
however, among the barrels, together with a more parti- 
cular account of Seville, will be given in the proper 
place. The present chapter belongs to John. Under 
his care, then, we saw the great tobacco manufactory, &c. 
The pictures also were visited in the old convent and else- 
where. These are few but good^ and a copy of a Murillo, 
called ' La Servilleta/ was bought. The Cathedral, too, 
was often inspected, more especially on Friday, the 
only day on which the wonders of the sacristy, which 
are carried in the procession of Good Friday, can be 
seen. And still, although Easter was past, the mon- 
strous erection over the tomb of Fernando Colon had 
been left standing — a curiosity, no doubt, from its enor- 
mous size, but sadly in the way — at least in the glare of 
day. It is said, however, to be marvellously beautiful 
on the nights of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, 
when, after the Host is enclosed in the silver custodia, 
the lofty monument is lit up. At least, this was the 
account which John gave ; and he seemed much disap- 



J olm. 



107 



pointed that we had not been at Seville for Easter. 
It consoled him, however, to think that we were there 
for theferia ; and to the fair we went accordingly. 

Oh, what a number of animals were there ! Pigs, 
mostly black, of all ages, and in numbers beyond cal- 
culation, sheep, horses, asses, and mules. There were 
streets of booths, too, in which cakes, moulded and 
fried in oil, under the customers' eyes, were to be 
procured ; and at this trade the Gitanas seemed to be 
the most expert, and the most patronised. All over 
the city John knew everybody,, and his acquaintance 
seemed to be equally extensive among the tents beyond 
its limits ; for at fair-time a tented town springs up just 
outside of Seville, and very handsome many of the tem- 
porary houses looked. To one of these, the largest 
there, John introduced his friends on two successive 
nights. He said that it belonged to the principal man 
of the place ; and this might have been the case, for the 
company was numerous, extremely well dressed, and 
the dancing to an excellent band most decorous and 
graceful. 

There was, however, a charge for entrance ; and the 
supper had to be paid for also. Here the Junior 
was nearly getting into difficulty with his Spanish ; for, 
observing that the young Andalusian dandies had those 
high-heeled boots which ladies wear in England, and 
wishing to say something civil to his host, he remarked 
that the boots of the caballeros, or las botas de los jbvenes, 
were very pretty. The host evidently did not appreciate 
this intended compliment. On the contrary, he looked 



io8 



Over Volcanoes, 



rather angry. Whereupon John, who could scarcely speak 
for laughing, explained that the Spaniard had mistaken 
the word botas for another dissyllable not unlike it in 
sound, which reflected very scurrilously on the character 
of the ladies present. However, an explanation was 
given which set everything right, and then John, to while 
away the time, told his own history. It appeared that 
his father had been a rich merchant of Trieste, who died 
young, on which John's eldest brother squandered the 
property, and then died too. So John had to be a 
garcon, a mozo, a lacayo, a valet, a courier. In these 
walks of life he had prospered ; and he had picked 
up nine languages, including Arabic. Now John worked 
with sightseers at Seville from September to May, lived 
frugally, and saved money. During the rest of the 
year he was an hidalgo in the Sierra Morena, with a 
wife, a family, and a garden. Genial, pleasant, loqua- 
cious John ! It is possible — perhaps probable — that 
we shall never meet again on earth ; for between us 
there are the facts upon which the solemn Homeric line 
is based, 

0#pec£ re (TKidevTa, daXaacrd re 7\x^ (T(Ta — 
The mountain shadows, and the roaring sea. 

But among the joys which the Junior looks for- 
ward to is the prospect of seeing John once more. 
And some day, perhaps, when the present writer is at 
the head of a Firm, instead of being at the foot — some 
day when he has made his fortune, and has a wife 
very dear to him — a wife whom he has even now in his 



John. 



109 



heart, although not as yet in his house — when he has 
two little daughters of fourteen and thirteen, let us say 
— he intends to go back to Seville, and look at the Giralda 
again. Perhaps this day-dream, like many others, may 
never be realised ; but this the Junior can assert, 
that, supposing a gentleman has credit with Messrs. 
Cahill, White, & Beck (who are the Seville agents of 
Messrs. Coutts, the all-known bankers), and supposing he 
can come to the Queen of Andalusia in the spring-time, 
with those whom he loves best, he may be the happiest 
of mortals, for a fortnight at least, under the orange- 
trees of the Patio de los Naranjos, and the Plazas of 
San Francisco and Nueva. 

That is to say, this will be the case, if he has secured 
the services of John ; for, without this addition to the 
cup of pleasure, the other ingredients of happiness, great 
as they are, will be of little worth, comparatively, at 
Seville. 



I IO 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

WITH JOHN IN SEVILLE. 

The revolutions which have agitated Spain almost 
continuously during forty years, and more especially 
those which have broken out during the last three, 
have done much towards altering the character of the 
people. And perhaps no place has felt the effects of 
these changes more than Seville. For at one time it 
was the stronghold of the Monarchy as also of the 
Church. And though Charles V. removed the Court 
to Valladolid, it remained faithful even during the out- 
break of the Comuneros at Toledo. As regards the 
Church, the evidences of its loyalty were conspicuous. It 
is said that at one time half of the area of the city was 
covered with churches and monasteries. Over all these, 
too, the Inquisition, from its head-quarters, first in Triana, 
next in the Calle San Marcos, and finally in the Alameda 
Vieja, held undisputed sway. And still, although so 
many years have elapsed since it was deserted, the 
remains of the old Moorish castle, which the dread 
Tribunal once occupied, are visible, and especially those 
sallyports, which, leading down to the Guadalquivir, 
enabled its officers to convey their prisoners, living or 
dead, to any resting-place which had been selected. 



With John in Seville. 



in 



Now all is changed. The Inquisition and the old 
dynasties are alike in ruins. As for the churches and 
convents, many are turned into prisons, some into hos- 
pitals, some into warehouses. Nine were sacked when the 
Conde de Reus pronounced, and one of these was pur- 
chased by Mr. Clough, the agent of the Presbyterians, 
for 12,000 dollars. So Andalusia, and especially its 
capital, which was once so priestridden and monarchical, 
is Liberal, not to say Radical, both in secular and in 
religious matters. This was impressed on our minds by 
many circumstances, and more particularly by the bear- 
ing and demeanour of John. For instance, we went to see 
the Palace of St. Elmo, once the Nautical College of 
Fernando Colon, but since 1849* the property of the 
Duke de Montpensier. A very pleasant place it is. 
The duchess was there at the time with her children, 
and the duke was expected every moment. Never- 
theless John on our behalf rang the bell, and was ad- 
mitted at once. Inside, John gave himself the airs of 
one who was the owner of the house. He begged his 
employers to be seated, to take their own time in every 
room, and to understand that he, John, was just as 
much the master of St. Elmo as anyone else, since the 
domain might now be regarded as national property. 
So we lingered in each room undisturbed, admiring at 
our leisure the tasteful furniture and the costly orna- 
ments. We looked once and again at Ary Scheffer's 
' St. Augustine,' and at the portrait of the ex-queen 
Isabel, a woman hardly treated by Louis-Philippe, and 
not any better by his son. We learned, from the inscrip- 



/ 



I I 2 



Over Volcanoes. 



tions on two rather unspiritual busts, facts of which 
we had not been aware before, viz. that Ferdinand VII. 
was a wise administrator, and that his wife Maria Chris- 
tina was the mother of her people. We saw also the 
Duke de Montpensier in kepi and red trowsers, riding 
through Athens with his sister and the royal (Bavarian) 
family of Greece ; and again we saw him, dressed as a 
Turk, with his duchess by his side, at a masquerade. 

From the rooms we passed into the gardens, which 
are extremely well kept. Indeed, the labourers seemed 
almost too plentiful, and the chief gardeners were walking 
about with blunderbusses. In spite of these forces, John 
made himself as much at home out of doors as he 
had been within. This peculiarity added much to the 
pleasure of the visit — at least at first this was the effect. 
It was charming to go about just as we liked, back- 
ward and forward, without being under the orders of 
any cicerone, except the accommodating John. And 
really the gardens were beautiful, so bright, yet so 
shady. The oranges and the acacias, in full bloom, filled 
the air with delicious perfumes ; and the sycamore of 
Spain was not quite over, On some of the orange-trees 
the fruit looked ripe, and Mr. Stevens eyed it 4 I 
should like,' said he at last, ' to pick an eatable orange 
off a tree with my own hands, and then to sit down and 
enjoy it I have never done such a thing in my life ; 
but if I were the Duke de Montpensier, I should have 
a feast to-day here.' He looked so longingly at the 
tempting fruit, and really seemed so much inclined to 
forget his good manners as a traveller, that it seemed 



With John in Seville. 113 

necessary to interfere with a caution. So I said, ' When 
grandees are so kind as to allow strangers to visit their 
grounds, they have a right to expect that their property 
will be respected.' The Senior felt himself knocked down, 
1 kicked by a donkey, sir,' as he used to say on such occa- 
sions. But the tables were soon turned in his favour. 
' Sir,' said John, ' what that young gentleman has told 
you may be true in the world generally, and was true in 
Spain above all other places three years ago, for then 
this place was not shown. But everything is changed 
now. Don Antonio de Bourbon, the Orange Man, as 
we call him, because he sells these oranges, does not 
stand so well with the Government of Serrano as I do ; 
so pick what you like. Never mind those fellows with 
their guns, they won't dare to touch any friends of mine. 
Pick what you like, I give you leave. Everything here 
is mine.' 

Neither the Junior nor the Cashier felt the least 
inclination to avail themselves of the permission thus 
strangely given. Nor would the Senior have yielded 
to the temptation under ordinary circumstances ; but 
he had been nettled at the implied reproof of his inferior, 
and he could not resist the desire to put him down. So, 
like another Eve, he stretched forth his hand, and 
plucked the fruit ; on which two shots were fired, and 
. ... At least such would have been the result if this 
were a fictitious tale. But as a matter of fact, nothing 
happened. The armed gardeners looked on unmoved, 
and the Senior sucked his orange in peace. Having done 
so, he looked round triumphantly, and yet rather sheep- 

1 



ii4 



Over Volcanoes. 



ishly, saying at the same time, ' I'm glad my wife and our 
little Ann are not here, for if John had said as much 
to them, they would have understood him literally, and 
have pillaged the place, of which behaviour I should 
have been as much ashamed as anybody could be. 
But John sees that we are gentlemen, and knows that 
we shall not take any undue advantage of the liberty 
which he gives us. In fact, I'm almost sorry,' he con- 
tinued, * that I picked my orange, and I hope that no 
one will follow my example. Not that I'm afraid of 
those ruffians with the guns, for John is evidently their 
master; but an English gentleman should always set an 
example of good behaviour to everybody.' 

It is to be feared that I looked a little cross, obser- 
ving which, John, like a shrewd fellow, did his best 
to make amends. ' Let me give you a rose,' said he, 
offering a fine Souvenir de Malmaison ; ' you can take 
it home to your amiga! I could not resist the man- 
ner in which the present was made, and, in spite of 
my previous protest, accepted the flower; on which 
John picked a bunch, and insisted upon decorating 
everybody's button-hole, including his own. Thus 
adorned, and parading our stolen goods, we passed and 
repassed the men with the guns, who saluted John with 
great civility. This courtesy he returned in grand style, 
and desired one of them to go and order his carriage 
round from the front door, where it was standing, to 
the gate which opened on the gardens of Las Delicias, 
where we purposed to go next. 

From thence the travellers drove to the Alcazar, 



With John in Seville. 1 1 5 

restored in 1857 by the Duke de Montpensier, who 
would have saved Spain from many calamities, and re- 
newed her ancient glories, if he had been allowed to 
marry the elder daughter of Ferdinand, instead of the 
younger. The intrigues which prevented this arrange- 
ment are attributed by the Spaniards to the English 
Government, and this may or may not be a true accu- 
sation ; but it is certain that if Don Antonio de Bour- 
bon should become, some of these days, King of Spain, 
and the Count of Paris, his nephew and son-in-law, 
King of France, very few in England, below the upper 
ten thousand, would care a button. And the upper ten 
thousand are no longer our rulers. 

- Next to the Mezquita at Cordova/ said the Cashier, 
' the Alcazar here is the finest thing we have seen, and 
the most unlike anything in Europe. Look at this 
magnificent portal, how thoroughly Oriental it is ! No 
Christian could have conceived anything so fine. What 
splendid arabesques ! What ungothic windows ! ' 

' Yes/ said John, ' very fine, sir ; nevertheless all this 
was not the work of a Mohammedan, but of a Christian, 
if indeed the murderer of his own brother can be called a 
Christian. This part of the Alcazar was built by Pedro 
the Cruel. Come into the gardens, gentlemen, and I will 
show you where Maria de Padilla — the only one who 
could tame that mad brute — bathed.' 

So, having looked at the grand patio> which is genuine 

Moorish work, and admired the media naranja roof in 

the Hall of Ambassadors, we passed into the gardens. 

Oh, how delightful were the hedges of orange and myrtle ! 

1 2 



n6 



Over Volcanoes. 



How complete the system of water-works, which lay 
unperceived beneath the feet everywhere, and might be 
regarded as the source of all the fragrance and the 
beauty ! For where water can be laid on, Spain is a 
Garden of Eden, while in all places where water is absent 
or scarce, the country becomes almost a desert. Here it 
is most abundant, and still one can see the tank where 
Philip V. fished, and the vaulted rooms where the ladies 
bathed. How ^deliriously cool these must be in the 
dog-days of Seville, in which city, by all accounts, the 
heat is more intense than in any part of Europe. 

6 The Escorial Water-Cure shall have a branch esta- 
blishment here/ said Mr. Stevens. ' With the exception 
of the douches, we have everything ready. What a 
wonderful thing it is that the Spaniards do not bathe, 
or even wash !' 

' We shall improve after a while/ said John. • I hope 
some of these days to see these banos used by the 
people ; but we have been governed badly so long that 
we have lost all spirit. But, gentlemen, the country that 
produced Colon and Cortes, to say nothing of the Cid 
and Gonzalo de Cordova, will not always be ruled by 
spendthrifts like Prim, or intriguers like Serrano, a fellow 
who first destroyed his queen's character by leading her 
into vicious pleasures, and then dethroned her, because 
she had been too kind to him. Yes, gentlemen English- 
men, you may tell your friends at home that the heart 
of Spain is as sound as ever, and that she means by 
degrees to get rid of every rotten limb/ 

' I believe you/ said the Cashier ; ' and so I say, from 
my heart, Viva Espana ! 9 



With John in Seville. 1 1 7 



' To-night/ cried John, in high good humour, < I will 
sing you a Spanish song/ And accordingly, he kept his 
promise, and sang the following :— 

Libertad, Libertad sacrosanta, 
Nuestro numen tu siempre seras. 

' It's very like the Marseillaise/ said Mr. Stevens. 
' Yes/ replied I ; ' but better in tone :— 

O la muerte 6 la Constitution ! 

either death or the Constitution, that is the burden of it, 
and the wish is moderate and reasonable.' 

'Yes/ said John; 'we should be satisfied with the 
Constitution, but it has been broken, and Roque Barcia 
is detained in prison, without trial.' 1 

' What is the charge against him ? ' enquired the 
Cashier. 

1 Killing Prim, of which he is as innocent as I am/ re- 
plied John ; ' but his real offence is the pamphlet " Nunca 
6 ahora " — " Now or never/' And if we are to have a 
Republic, it must be now or never/ 

' Well/ said the Senior, * I hope that it will be never 
while you have such a king as Amadeo/ 

1 Roque Barcia was released in the following' September, and the charge 
of conspiring to kill Prim was then urged against a Coronel Don Felipe 
Solis, an aide-de-camp of the Duke de Montpensier ! ! ! 



• 



nS 



Over Volcanoes 



CHAPTER XIX. 

SAN ISIDORO AND THE ITALICA. 

' I declare/ said Mr. Stevens, on the next morning, ' 1 
shuddered at the way in which John treated the people 
yesterday. And, to tell the truth, I'm ashamed of 
myself for encouraging him. But it was all your fault, 
Kingsman. You had no right to speak to your Senior 
as you spoke to me at St. Elmo ; and for the future you 
will be good enough to understand that the Head of 
Stevens & Co. does not want your advice/ 

The Junior, like a prudent man, made no reply, and at 
that moment John, in a carriage with a pair of horses, 
came up to the patio. 

t Where are we going ? ' was our question. 

' To the Monastery of San Isidoro and the Italica, 
Senores/ replied John. ' It will be a pleasant drive ex- 
cept for the dust ; but we can't help dust in Spain.' 

Accordingly, the bridge over the Guadalquivir and the 
Triana suburb were crossed. The convent, turned into a 
porcelain manufactory, was passed unvisited, and San 
Isidoro was reached. 

' The priest who lives here is an idle fellow,' said John ; 
' he kept me waiting two hours one day, and there is 



San Isidoro and the Italica. 



119 



not much to be seen after all. But I wake him up now.' 
On this he began to shout, in Spanish, " Open the door, 
Curate ; if you don't open the door, I come in, and find 
you in bed. Open the door, Curate !" ' 

'Upon my word/ said the Senior, 'he treats the 
churchmen still more disrespectfully than the duke's 
people. There will be a row soon ; for I'm sure such 
conduct must lead to retaliation.' 

The Curate did not come, so John continued to shout, 
using language more and more abusive ; indeed, such 
as would have been actionable in England. At last 
John opened the door of the church, and walked in. 

1 There is an organ up in that gallery,' said John, 'and 
a fine view from the roof. Make yourselves at home, 
gentlemen, while I go and pull the lazy Curate out of 
his bed.' 

'No, no,' cried the Senior; 'we must not take such 
liberties with the reverend gentleman. He may be ill. 
Be civil to him, John.' 

' I tell you, gentlemen Englishmen,' said John, ' you 
may do just what you like. The chapel is mine, and the 
organ is mine. The whole monastery is mine.' 

After saying this, John took his departure to search 
for the Curate, and the travellers wandered over the 
dilapidated, dreary chapel. The organ looked tempting, 
and there was nothing else to do, except what had been 
proposed by John. So, ultimately, the Cashier played 
a tune, while the Senior worked the bellows, and the 
music sounded very weirdlike to me, who was on the 
roof, looking through a field-glass at Seville. The whole 



120 



Over Volcanoes. 



of the city, with the fair Giralda in the centre of the 
picture, lay stretched out before my eyes. 

Behind the building was the Sierra Morena, and on 
the left Los Carios de Carmona, the aqueduct which 
runs in such a picturesque fashion up the Cruz del 
Campo. 

After some time the Curate, a miserable, unwhole- 
some-looking man, in seedy canonicals, came ; and, 
apologising for the delay, showed, officially, what had 
been seen already. He then received his fee, made his 
bow, and the travellers, much harassed by an army of 
bare-legged, brown-faced beggars, passed on to the 
Italica. ♦ 

Italica ! birthplace of the Emperors Trajan, Adrian, 
and Theodosius ! Italica ! which once possessed an 
amphitheatre capable of holding 50,000 persons ! 
Italica! what a theme for Rioja ! Still the remains of 
the seats, rising tier over tier, may be seen. Still one 
may look into the dens from which the lions leaped 
forth upon the doomed. There is the room, too, in which 
the gladiators made their final preparations before they 
appeared to salute the emperor for the last time, and 
another room also to which their dead bodies were car- 
ried, after they had been butchered. What horrible 
barbarity ! What shocking sport ! Who does not sym- 
pathise with Spartacus ? A shepherd at first, then a 
soldier, then a bandit, then a gladiator, and lastly, the 
most terrible guerilla leader that ever lived, he was a very 
Wallace, a Bruce, a nobleman by nature. And with the 
name of Spartacus that of Sertorius, his contemporary, 



San Isidoro and the Italica. 121 



must be connected in the minds of those who know the 
story of each, so romantic, and so sad. And Sertorius, 
at least, had reason to know Italica. For there, in the 
spring of 75 B.C., Hortuleius, his lieutenant, fought a 
battle with Metellus, contrary to the instructions of his 
chief, and was totally defeated. 

Now the grand amphitheatre is in ruins, and the 
glory of the old town has departed. On a little oasis 
among the stones the official guide has a cottage, where 
the roses, the sweet peas^ and the gillyflowers grow, 
almost wild. Some of these John picked ; on which 
one of the bystanders said, i Hollo ! that's a robbery.' 

1 Robbery or not,' replied John, 1 I've a plenary in- 
dulgence and full absolution from the Pope. So I may 
do what I like.' 

At this outburst of the rank Antinomianism of 
the Papacy all laughed heartily, and it was clear that 
no one there had the slightest belief in, or love for, Pio 
Nono, The Infallible ! Under the cover of the joke and 
the laugh, the carriage drove away with John on the 
box. In his absence, we were able to talk freely, and 
the Senior opened the conversation by repeating his 
observation previously made, namely, that John fright- 
ened him ; or rather, he added : 

' I am frightened at the condition of a country from 
which all reverence seems to have departed. No dout^t, 
for many years, the cord was stretched too tight, and 
one cannot wonder that it snapped ; but it is sad to see 
a nation at such a loose end.' 

' Oh,' said the Cashier, ' it is only John's manner. He 



122 



Over Volcanoes. 



is known to everybody as a good-humoured fellow, who 
brings in fees, and people bear with him. Besides, they 
don't know half of what he says.' 

' I can assure you/ the Junior cried, ' the Curate would 
not have been flattered if he had heard all that John 
thought about him and his sister. John spoke Spanish 
too, and loud enough to be heard by everybody within 
half a mile. So I incline to believe that the times in 
Spain are out of joint. But what else can be expected 
after so many revolutions V 

1 And what will it all end in ? ' asked Mr. Stevens. 

6 Cabrerismo, I hope/ said the Junior. 

■ And what is Cabrerismo ? ' 

The answer to this question will be given in the next 
chapter. 



Cabrerismo and the Synod of Seville. 123 



CHAPTER XX, 

CABRERISMO AND THE SYNOD OF SEVILLE. 

1 WHAT is Cabrerismo ? ' enquired the Senior. 

' The religion of Cabrera/ I replied. 

' And who is Cabrera ? Not the Carlist general, I sup- 
pose, whose mother was shot at Tortosa by Nogueras ? ' 

' No,' I replied ; ' the Cabrera of Cabrerismo is the 
very reverse of a Carlist. He is an ex-priest, Liberal 
in politics and in religion. In fact, he is the acknow- 
ledged head of the Protestant movement in Spain.' 

' And how many men does he muster? ' continued Mr. 
Stevens. i I can believe in Spain becoming infidel, but 
as for Protestantism, there seems to me to be little 
chance for that here.' 

To which I replied : ' There are congregations at 
Madrid, Zaragoza, Cadiz, Huelva, Malaga, Granada, 
Cordova, and Seville, besides some other places whieh I 
cannot recollect. But the head-quarters is Seville ; and a 
synod is sitting here at this very time for the purpose 
of moulding the movement into some form.' 

i I remember now,' said the Senior ; 1 a Scotchman 
took us the other day to the church which he had just 
purchased from the Government ; and a fine building it 
is, with a gallery particularly beautiful.' 

' Yes/ said the Junior ; ' that gentleman is very deeply 



124 



Over Volcanoes. 



interested in the matter, and his life is threatened every 
day. He tells me that the congregation belongs chiefly 
to the lowest ranks in Seville, and that his best mission- 
ary is a beggar, who is to be found, usually, in the Plaza 
Magdalena/ 

' 1 wish your friend would teach his convert to be 
ashamed of begging/ cried the Senior. ' But I want to 
know what are the doctrines of the new sect/ 

' That's just the point which they are now settling/ 
I replied. ' However, I have in my pocket the Arti- 
cles which were agreed upon in 1869 at Seville, and I 
can answer any questions which you choose to put, so 
far as they are concerned/ 

' Do they accept the Athanasian Creed ? ' asked the 
Cashier. 

' Yes, they do ; and under that name also/ 

i Well, I am surprised/ cried Mr. Stevens. 6 1 should 
have thought that any Church which had a chance would 
have freed itself from that relic of an intolerant, dog- 
matic, persecuting, ignorant age/ 

i Is their translation from the Latin of Hilary, or from 
the Greek ? 1 enquired the Cashier. 

' From our own translation, apparently, whichever we 
took. But what's the difference ? ' 

' Oh, I don't know,' cried the Cashier. ' Probably 
not much ; but my friend the Bishop of Gloucester used 
to inform me that there was a great deal of difference/ 

i And the Bishop of Winchester/ said I, * who is not 
my friend, tells everybody that " Quicunque vult," as he 
calls it, is a hymn, and not a creed/ 



Cabrerismo and the Synod of Seville. 125 



' Credat Judaeus !' cried the Cashier. 

i How many Articles have they ? ' asked Mr. Stevens. 

1 Thirty-five.' 

' They might as well have made them thirty-nine ; 
that's the orthodox number.' 

1 They follow the Presbyterian Church rather than 
ours.' 

1 They have no bishops or archbishops, then?' said the 
Cashier. 
' No, none.' 

' That will condemn them at once with a good many 
people in England/ cried Mr. Stevens. ' We find it diffi- 
cult to believe in the apostolicity of any Church which 
is not superintended by a "My Lord." ' 

' And yet/ said the Cashier, ' we ought to call no 
human being " Lord " if we follow the teaching of the 
Bible.' 

' I think/ said the Senior, ' that we might interpret 
Scripture literally in this respect. Can anyone fancy 
Silas or Timothy calling Paul of Tarsus " My Lord " ? 
But what do the Spaniards say of matrimony for cler- 
gymen ? ' 

' They allow it, of course. Being Low Churchmen, 
they can do that, which High Churchmen, if consistent, 
could not' 

< What of Sunday ? 5 

* It is to be kept after the Scotch fashion/ 
' In what particulars ? — as to drink ? ' 
1 No ; but very strictly/ 

1 That is all very well when men do not work hard at 



126 



Over Volcanoes. 



unwholesome occupations during the week, so this 
will do no harm in Spain, for men don't work at all 
here ; and if a cigar is allowed during religious medi- 
tations, I am inclined to think that Spaniards will keep 
the Article which bids them rest on Sunday pretty- 
readily and correctly/ 

' What about the Apocrypha ? ' asked the Cashier. 

* It ought not to be included in the Scriptures, say 
they.' 

' Quite right/ cried Mr. Stevens ; ' but nevertheless, I 
should be sorry to lose some chapters in Wisdom and 
Ecclesiasticus.' 

'On what authority do they receive the Scriptures ?' 
enquired the Cashier. ' That is, why do they accept the 
Canon of Scripture?' 

' Because the books have been accepted by constant 
and universal testimony. These are their grounds.' 

' Which would exclude the Apocalypse,' said the 
Cashier. ' But we are no wiser than they.' 

' However, they add the internal testimony.' 

' The Canon of Scripture/ said the Cashier, ' opens one 
of the most difficult questions in the world ; and I don't 
expect that Cabrerismo will throw much light upon it. 
But what do they say about the ministers of religion ?' 

* Their canon on this point,' replied I, 4 is that since 
no one can take upon himself the public preaching of 
the Word, or the administration of the Sacraments, 
Jesus Christ has provided a ministry of the Church. 
But although God gave some apostles, some prophets, 
some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, yet, 



Cabrerismo and the Synod of Seville. 127 

nevertheless, since the times of the Apostles, there have 
been only presbyters and deacons, who, by the imposi- 
tion of the hands of the Presbytery, perform the duties 
of pastors and evangelists in the different congregations 
of the faithful/ 

' I can't agree with them/ said Mr. Stevens, ' as to 
the facts. There have been Overlookers under the 
Christian system at all times. Overlookers who were 
above priests and deacons ; but whether we call these 
men Elders, or Overlookers, or Overseers, or Bishops, 
signifies nothing. As to calling them Lords or Fathers, 
this is wrong, and they ought not to permit us to do any- 
thing of the sort/ 

' But surely/ said I, ' if you have to address our ex- 
cellent Bishop, you would give him his proper title — 
the Right Reverend Father in God, the Lord Bishop 
of ?' . 

' Of course I should/ replied he; 'just as I call my 
coal-merchant, who is never likely to see a foreign sol- 
dier, Lieutenant-Colonel, because he likes that handle 
to his plebeian name. But I should think more highly 
both of the Bishops and of the Volunteers if they begged 
me not to use those titles, which, although due to them 
by law, make them, when accepted, something worse 
than ridiculous.' 

'You are entirely wrong,' said the Cashier. 'We 
should have no Volunteer officers at all, if ambitious 
civilians were not allowed to usurp the honours of our 
real and regular soldiers ; and I know many a rich snob 
who subscribes his hundreds for missions, because my 



128 



Over Volcanoes. 



Lord Bishop, with a seat in the Upper House and a 
palace, solicits him, who would only show his purse- 
proud insolence to one who lived like a Bishop of the 
Moravians. You may depend upon this, then, that 
titles and money have an influence in supporting the 
institutions with which they are joined, although that 
influence is intrinsically vulvar.' 

p 1 Talking of bishops,' said Mr. Stevens, 1 reminds me 
of our diocesan and his synods. What does Cabrerismo 
say about such gatherings ? Are the laity admitted ? 
and if so, on what terms V 

' Chapter xxx.,' replied I, 1 is on synods and coun- 
cils, about which the following judgment is given : 
" For the good government and consolidation of the 
Church, it is needful that there should be reunions or 
assemblies, commonly called synods or councils, com- 
posed of ministers of Christ, who by virtue of their mi- 
nistry, in conjunction with other capable members dele- 
gated by the Churches, shall meet for the purpose of dis- 
cussing such business as belongs to them." ' 

' Do they vote by orders ? And what powers has the 
president?' enquired the Cashier. 

1 These points they are trying to settle ; and I be- 
lieve they find them rather thorny, especially the latter/ 

' But look !' cried the Cashier ; 'there are the Cabre- 
ristas.' And sure enough, in the middle of the fair 
(where, on a seat under the trees, this conversation had 
taken place), stood the Reformers of Spain. They had 
come out to refresh themselves after a mornings sitting 
in their synod, and very unlike the rest of the Spanish 



Cabrerismo and the Synod of Seville. 129 



world they looked. In fact, they had the appearance of 
the English Nonconformist ministers of fifty years ago — 
that is, before Dissent had begun to vie with the Esta- 
blished Church in wealth. The dress of all was black ; 
but the coats and trowsers looked rusty. Many of the 
lower classes seemed to know them well, and respect 
them highly. Constantly there was a kindly greeting, 
a shake of the hand — even a kiss ; and it must be con- 
fessed that a brotherly spirit seemed to pervade them 
all. And this might well be the case, for at present the 
Reformers are a feeble folk, and in peril of their lives 
every day ; but out of such weakness strength has come 
before now, and it may come again. There will, how- 
ever, be a struggle, and a deadly one; for in Spain it is a 
serious matter when ex-priests openly hoist the standard 
of rebellion against the National Church. And when we 
think of the scenes which used to happen at the Italica, 
and consider the cruelty which must be fostered by the 
bull-fights, and know the hot tempers of the Spaniards, 
the prospect is alarming. Some day, perhaps, and who 
knows how soon ? the old cry for blood — a little varied 
— will be repeated in Spain ; and it will be, ' Cabre- 
ristas a los toros ! ' 

Will the fiery Carrasco, and the stout Alhama, and 
the earnest Cabrera, bear themselves like men then ? 
If so, they will, by God's blessing, light up such a fire 
as the world has not seen since Cranmer, and Ridley, and 
Latimer — greater far in death than in life — consolidated 
that Church of England which Ritualism is under- 
mining. 

K 



Over Volcanoes. 



' Well/ said Mr. Stevens, 'Viva Cabrerismo ! — that is 
my cry. But I don't see much chance for it. I fear 
that the Spaniards will prefer the gospel of the people 
by my friend Roque Barcia, who is to sell me the 
Escorial some day. I remember the summing up ; but 
let's have it again — first in Spanish, and then in English.' 

So I read the following passage :— 

' Dios y diablo, gloria y infierno, rey y subdito, eso ha sido 
la tierra, eso ha sido la humanidad, eso es parte todavia. 
Gloria para unos, infierno para otros. Dios alii, demonio aqui. 
El rey encima, nosotros debajo/ 

6 God and the devil, heaven and hell, king and subject, 
such has been the world, and such human life, such the con- 
ditions everywhere. Heaven for some people, hell for others. 
God there, the devil here. The king up above, and we 
down below/ 

'And now/ said Mr. Stevens, 'for his electioneering 
cry, although I don't agree with it/ 

' That must be in English only/ said I ; ' or we may 
find our way to him in his prison. But it is, " Hurrah 
for the People ! Hurrah for Democracy ! Hurrah for 
the Federal Republic !'" 

' Af y y cried Mr. Stevens. ' Cabrerismo has no chance 
against that/ 

' But how will it be/ asked I, ' if the two march to- 
gether ? — and this has been the case hitherto/ 

' A very perilous conjunction for Cabrerismo/ replied 
he ; ' unless the religious element can maintain an abso- 
lute ascendency ; and then, perhaps, we should have all 
the excesses of Puritanism over again. Oh dear ! oh 



Cabrerismo and the Synod of Seville. 1 3 1 

dear ! What fools we human creatures are ! and what 
astonishment and disgust we must excite in the souls 
of those great Lords who live for ever above us in 
Uranus, and fill illimitable space with their Majestic 
Unity ! ' 



K 2 



I 12 



Over Volcanoes, 



CHAPTER XXI. 

LAS DOS CORRIDAS— DE TOROS Y DE NOSOTROS. 

The bull-fight at Madrid had been so curtailed by the 
abrupt departure of the Senior, that I resolved to see 
another at Seville, if I could. And as the Cashier 
wished to give the great Spanish amusement one more 
chance, before he finally condemned it, tickets were 
procured, and the two started together, leaving John 
to take care of the Head of the Firm at the fair. 

The approach to the Plaza de Toros in Seville is not 
nearly so fine as that at the capital, nor is the going to 
it anything like such a gay affair, for many more 
people seem to find their way to the corrida on foot. 
But the building itself is more striking. It is true that 
it only holds 1 1,000 instead of 12,000, but this differ- 
ence in size is not perceptible. In fact, it really looks 
the larger of the two, for an earthquake has caused a 
break in the line of the roof over the seats, on both 
sides of the President's box, and through one of these 
the Giralda and the Cathedral can be seen. There was 
not, however, much time to observe these features, or 
any other then, for it was nearly half-past four when we 
arrived ; and, whatever else may be unpunctual in Spain, 



Las dos Corridas. 133 

corridas must come off to a minute. Accordingly, at 
the hour appointed, the President took his seat, and the 
procession of performers entered. The only difference 
between Seville and Madrid up to this point was that 
the horses seemed inferior, and that the marshals, or 
alguaciles, were absent. The key of the bulls' den was 
then thrown down, and in there rushed, with a grand 
bound, a fine black animal, whose sleek skin was as yet 
unpierced by any steel. It was evident that he belonged 
to a different, and apparently a superior herd, to that 
which had supplied the victims at Madrid. At all 
events, he was in better condition, he had a more 
magnificent forehand, and his eye looked far fiercer 
and more restless. The beast seemed to know that 
he was doomed, and meant to sell his life dearly. 
There was, of course, a picador on his left as he entered, 
but the bull saw that the spear was in rest, ready for 
him, so he declined to charge, and, kicking up his heels, 
passed on. A flag was flaunted in his face by a chulo, 
but he disregarded it, and made for the man himself, 
who took to his heels quickly, and only just leaped the 
barrier in time. Against the stout wood the horns came 
with a thud, which caused a shudder to run through 
the spectators. 

' This is a splendid fellow,' cried I ; ' he will be over 
the barriers next time.' 

Before the words were well out of my mouth, the 
spectators were tumbling by scores into the arena, and 
the bull was in the gangway. 

' This is the very perfection of a bull/ cried L 



134 



Over Volcanoes. 



i He won't go at the horses, and evidently knows what 
he is about' 

' Ese es un toro muy malo,' said a Spaniard near to 
me; ' muy malo, muy peligroso.' 

' What does he say ? ' asked the Cashier. 

' He tells us that the bull is a very bad one, and 
very dangerous indeed.' 

As there was a lull while the bull wandered about in 
the gangway, the Spaniard (who had before forced some 
dry shellfish on us) proceeded to say that all the 
herd to which the bulls of that day belonged were 
of the same sort, very handsome, very active, and very 
crafty ; the result of which was that they gave bad sport, 
and were extremely dangerous to the performers. ' For 
my part,' he added, ' I am frightened ; and I shall be 
glad if this bull refuses three times the challenge of the 
picadores ; in which case we shall use the media luna and 
call for the dogs.' 

In spite of these forebodings, the round ended 
happily for all parties, except the bull, and, although 
there was a mutter of ' Los perros,' occasionally, the 
dogs were not wanted. None of the chulos were 
tossed, nor the banderilleros either ; and these latter, 
showing marvellous agility, managed to stick their cruel 
darts into the neck of the tortured beast ; after which 
the animal was finally stuck by the matador, who, 
having incurred considerable peril in the course of the 
operation, was vehemently applauded at its close, and 
complimented by a shower of cigars. The carcasses 
had scarcely disappeared at the heels of the gaily- 



Las dos Corridas. 



135 



caparisoned mules, when another black bull, just like 
the last, burst in, and displayed the same tactics as his 
predecessor. 

' Is he dangerous also ? ' I enquired. 

- He is worse than the other/ replied the Spaniard, 
who seemed to be really frightened. ' This bull is very 
dangerous indeed. See how he paws, and backs, and 
watches for his opportunity, and looks steadily at the 
men.' 

In spite of these forebodings, this animal was also 
despatched with especial eclat at the last ; for the 
matador whose turn it was to kill has the reputation 
of being the most accomplished in all Spain, and he did 
his work very skilfully. Now came the third bull, jet 
black like the rest, and a finer creature, if possible, than 
those which had preceded him. He too was pronounced 
to be horribly dangerous, but by this time the Spaniard 
was getting used to the peril, and even seemed to enjoy 
it. But this bull certainly looked likely to justify the 
character which had been given of the herd. He 
was a constant source of anxiety, not only to the 
actors, but to the spectators also. The former he 
pursued spitefully and persistently, disregarding their 
flags, and making them fly before him for their very 
lives. Up to the barrier he hunted them, and over it, 
close on their heels. On these occasions such of the 
spectators as were in the alley had to jump into the 
ring as fast as they could. But occasionally the bull 
would make hard for the barrier, as if he meant to top 
it, and yet he would stop short, and not do so. Upon 



Over Volcanoes. 



which, all who had thrown themselves into the arena 
had to get out of it again, as fast as they could ; so 
that the number of those engaged in the sport became 
very great, and the affair grew to be fearfully exciting. 
As for the picadores, the bull avoided them as much 
as he possibly could ; appearing to know that, while 
the men with the flags could not hurt him, the ca- 
balleros with their long and spiked spears could, and 
would draw his blood, if he came within their reach. 
Indeed, they had done so once or twice already, using 
great caution in their movements, and had produced in 
the bull's mind such aversion to that part of the sport as 
to cause people who were timid to hope that he might 
yet be handed over to ' los perros.' But the bull was 
only biding his time, and his triumph came with a 
vengeance. One of the youngest and boldest of the 
picadores, a man who had before shown much more rash- 
ness than his older companions, now pushed his horse, 
apparently a fine one, right up to the bull, and towards 
the centre of the arena. He was challenging the 
animal, and to do more than this was not his business. 
The bull pawed the ground, retreated, and bellowed, 
apparently declining the contest. The picador followed 
him up, keeping the point of the spear in a direction 
towards the animal's shoulder. Still the bull retreated, 
looking at the spear and the picador. The attitude 
of the man was grand ; indeed, the whole picture was 
very striking. Still the bull retreated, and the pica- 
dor, first shaking the spear in the face of his enemy, 
turned it towards the President's box, and again shook 



Las dos Corridas. 



137 



it triumphantly. A roar of applause followed ; and 
then, whether excited by the noise, or catching a sight of 
his terrible foe, or feeling simultaneously the long spur 
and the tremendous bit, the brave horse reared straight 
up in the air. This action discomposed his rider, who 
even before had not been attending so closely to his 
antagonist as prudence would have counselled. But 
if he had been ever so cautious, nothing could have 
saved him. The bull seized the auspicious moment, 
charged the rearing horse on his right flank, and, 
tossing him out of his way, advanced over his corpse 
to gore the prostrate man. On such occasions, gene- 
rally speaking, the instant aid of a chulo is at hand ; 
but now, before anyone could come up with his flag, 
the terrible horns were in the picador. ' Muerto ! 
muerto ! ' cried the Spaniards, hiding their faces horror- 
stricken. ■ Dead ! dead ! ' However, when the bull had 
been attracted in another direction by the united efforts 
of chulos, banderilleros, &c, the picador staggered to 
his legs, and walked with assistance out of the ring. 

'You see he is only wounded,' said I, hopefully. 

' Muerto ! muerto!' repeated the Spaniard. 'El pobre 
picador es muerto, enteramente muerto,' 

Nevertheless, the sport proceeded, as if nothing par- 
ticular had happened, but everyone felt relieved when 
news came, ten minutes afterwards, that the doctors had 
pronounced the man to be in no immediate danger. 
After such an appalling scene as that, no one will be 
surprised that the present writer allows the curtain 
to fall on the corrida de toros, and promises that 



Over Volcanoes. 



nothing shall ever tempt him to go to such an enter- 
tainment again. The corrida de toros being over, the 
corrida de nosotros began in the streets. No sooner 
had the 11,000 human beings streamed out on their 
way to the open space where the omnibuses were 
waiting for them, than confused cries arose in the front 
of the dense multitude. It was impossible to under- 
stand their motive or meaning. But they at once 
produced a panic, and the leading files turned back. 
Was it a bull burning to avenge his slaughtered com- 
panions ? or a cow, infinitely more dangerous, because 
she charges, not blindfold, but with eyes open ? Was 
it a revolution ? and would Montpensier appear pre- 
sently at the head of a pronunciamento ? In fact, 
was the volcano, over which we had been treading 
so long, really at work ? Whatever the cause of the 
movement might be, the movement itself was full of 
peril — for a panic-stricken crowd is a very serious affair. 
At all events, the thing to be done was to find a re- 
fuge before the storm overwhelmed all within its reach. 
Accordingly I, closely followed by the Cashier, made 
for a large doorway, towards which many others were 
hastening. It stood invitingly open, but the interior 
was dark, and cries were already heard in the entrance. 
The cause of these shrieks was soon perceived ; for a 
woman lay prostrate on the floor, and it was only after 
a great effort that I managed to escape treading on 
and tumbling over her. As for picking her up, this, 
under the circumstances, was quite impossible. Indeed, 
it was a matter of extreme difficulty for anyone to keep 



Las dos Corridas. 



139 



his feet ; the whole of the floor being strewed with 
little barrels about the size of those used in England 
for oysters. In Spain, these are filled with olives, 
and the cellar into which we had fallen (there was a 
step down to it) appeared to be the depot of a cooper. 
Behind a larger barrel I ensconced myself, and felt, 
for the first time since the panic arose, that I was 
safe. Presently, when my eyes became accustomed to 
the gloom, I perceived my friend on his legs too, for 
which I was grateful, and, as the rush had ceased, the 
woman got up, and proved to be more frightened than 
hurt. So the affair ended happily. But if the panic 
had continued, and the crowd had still streamed in, it is 
impossible to say what might have occurred. Probably 
this book would not have been published ; certainly the 
woman on the floor must have been killed. 

' What is the matter ? ' cried I in Spanish from be- 
hind my big barrel. 

' Nothing,' said a woman carrying a child, and ad- 
vancing from the far end of the cavern ; ' nothing, except 
that you have disarranged my barrels/ 

I apologised, and prepared to emerge, rather crest- 
fallen. That an Englishman should have got behind 
a barrel for nothing was rather degrading. But, on 
further enquiry, it appeared that the panic had arisen 
without any adequate cause, the cries having been raised 
by some pickpockets in the way of business. 

When Mr. Stevens heard what had happened, his 
verdict was, * It served you right. What business has a 
decent Englishman at a bull-fight ? ' 



140 



Over Volcanoes, 



I But you went to see one at Madrid, sir,' said the 
Cashier; ' and you purchased the tickets for us.' 

' May God forgive me ! ' answered he. 1 I mean to 
expiate my sins by subscribing to the Humane Society. 
I never spent a holiday so badly as when I saw those 
poor horses gored. But you looked on, it seems, while 
a man was killed for your sport. If I tell my wife and 
daughter, I don't think that either of them will speak 
to you again.' 

I I don't suppose that you will venture,' said the 
Cashier to me, i to put the proceedings of this day into 
" Over Volcanoes " ? ' 

' I shall, though. We have seen a terrible, a mag- 
nificent, a most exciting spectacle, and I wish that I 
could hope to describe it in fitting language/ 

* To deter other people from following your example, 
I suppose,' said Mr. Stevens. 



A Sunday in Seville. 



141 



CHAPTER XXII. 

A SUNDAY IN SEVILLE, 

BY eight o'clock on the morning of Sunday, April 16, 
we found ourselves, under the protection of John, at 
the Convent of the Santas Justina and Rufina. This 
is near the Puerta del Sol, the eastern gate of the 
city. On our way to it we had passed through the 
great market, in which some of the costumes were very 
picturesque, and business seemed to be carried on with 
as much activity as at Ironham on Thursday. In the 
church of the convent, however, things looked a little 
more like Sunday; at all events, there was a priest 
celebrating Mass. But it seemed to be a slovenly affair, 
and the performance was much less papistical than 
that which any Londoner may see on every Sunday at 
St. Alban's, Holborn. For there was only one officiating 
priest, and the sole assistant was a dirty little boy in the 
costume of the Spanish gutters. The parish, to which 
this church is attached, consists, so John said, of 3,000 
souls, but the congregation, excepting a troop of horse- 
artillery, whose heavy guns filled the patio before it, 
was limited and easily counted. It was, in fact, made up 
of the following classes and numbers : — 



142 



Over Volcanoes. 



Very old women . . . . 6 

Rather old women .... 3 

Englishmen ..... 3 

Spaniard (John) . ... . 1 

Dogs 5 

Cat 1 



Total . . 19 

The soldiers were about sixty in number, not including 
their band, and the service, in spite of the irreverent 
celebrant and the queer congregation, was striking. For 
at those parts of the Mass which are marked in France 
and elsewhere by the ringing of a little bell, but which 
in Spain are rendered more emphatic by the tolling of 
the great campana of the church or cathedral, the music 
played some stirring bars, and when, at last, the crisis 
came, and the brass instruments brayed out their frantic 
welcome to the King whom the priest had just created, 
the soldiers knelt for a few moments, and all present, 
excepting of course the animals, behaved decorously. 
As for the five dogs and the one cat, they showed 
that their papistical education had been neglected ; 
and really if they had been Protestants of the Whalley 
stamp, they could not have appeared to be more scared. 
Their behaviour at that point, indeed, offered a remark- 
able contrast to their previous conduct ; for up to this 
time they had conducted themselves with tolerable pro- 
priety, although they had also enjoyed themselves much. 
It is true that the dogs had occasionally chevied the cat, 
and had caused her to take refuge on spots usually de- 
voted to more sacred elevations. It is true also that 



A Sunday in Seville, 



H3 



they had walked solemnly up the steps of the altar, and 
had played round the legs of the ragged acolyte, and it 
must also be confessed that one of them had so far for- 
gotten his good manners as to commit that act of neces- 
sity, within the sacrarium, for w T hich Lance's dog was 
upbraided. But none of these things had discomposed 
either the officiating priest or the congregation. How- 
ever, when the trumpets sounded, and the soldiers went 
down on their knees, the dogs were terrified and retired 
howling, like indignant Protestants, while the cat, with 

her back arched and tail curled, went well, went 

very wrong indeed. 

Soon after this the service came to a conclusion, and 
then John ordered (the word is used advisedly) the priest 
to show the wonders of his church. Wonders they were. 
Descending by a flight of steps, we found ourselves in 
a cavern, which had been used as a prison in the days 
of the Diocletian persecution, and in it had then been 
immured the virgins Justina and Rufina, who never- 
theless, in the year 1504, were so much alive to what 
was going on in Spain that they preserved the Giralda 
from a thunderstorm which the devil had raised. In 
this dungeon, which was wonderfully small, these ladies 
had suffered martyrdom, having previously scratched 
with their nails a cross upon the stone. There also, 
under the floor of the church, was a well, the water of 
which had been miraculously vouchsafed to them in 
their hours of thirst. No doubt it had been, in the 
ages of faith, as clear as holy water should be, but now, 
like most things papistical in Spain, it looked very dirty 



144 



Over Volcanoes. 



and nasty. After the visitors had seen the marvels be- 
neath the earth, they were conducted upstairs again, and 
introduced to the ladies Justina and Rufina themselves. 
The saints, however, did not appear in the beautiful 
forms of Las dos Mancebas of Madrid, Dona Romana 
y Dona Sabina, under which the profane pencil of Goya 
has handed them down to posterity on canvas ; but 
they were in their proper persons. To speak plainly, 
a skull, enriched with a silver chaplet, was shown to the 
faithful as Rufina or Justina, or perhaps as both, and 
two of the company then present kissed this relic most 
devoutly. It is scarcely necessary to add that these 
devotees did not belong to our company. In fact, they 
were two old ladies from Leon, who had come all the 
way to Seville for the purpose of paying their respects 
to the Patronesses of that city, and they cared for 
nothing else in Andalusia, except perhaps the House of 
Pilate. Very impressed they were with the interview 
vouchsafed to them by the saints. They fondled the 
skull with their anile caresses, and at their urgent re- 
quest their rosaries were rubbed against it gently. To 
these old women the priest was unctuous, to the 
Englishmen he was surly ; at least, he showed as much 
ill-will as he dared in the presence of the omnipotent 
John. As for Mr. Stevens, he stared in astonishment, 
protesting tremendously by his looks, but saying nothing. 

1 The priest seemed to be an ill-conditioned fellow/ 
said the Cashier when they had left the church. 1 Is he 
a bigot, John ? 9 

1 Is he a whisker ? ' replied John ; ' what do you mean, 
sir ? Bigote is a whisker in Spanish/ he added. ' 



A Sunday in Seville. 



145 



The Cashier explained that a bigot in English was a 
man who believed in Rufina and Justina, and suchlike 
fictions. 

1 Not a bit of it/ said John. i He believes no more 
than you or I do, nor half so much ; for we have some 
religion, he has none/ 

6 But why, then, was he so cross ? ' asked Mr. Stevens. 

' Because/ replied John, 'he knew that you would not 
give him much. But he and I are capital friends. He 
say to me one day, " John, why you bring me those 
English and those Yankees ? I no like either. They 
don't say nothing, but they shake their heads, and that 
shakes the belief of the faithful. You bring me some 
good Catholics, John, and rich ones too. Then they give 
me some dollars, and I give you some pesetas." ' 

' And have you done as he wished ? ' 

' I have not had many chances/ replied John. ' More's 
the pity, gentlemen. But I did once take him one of 
the right sort. He was a Cuban slave-owner, Senores, a 
man with thickish lips and curly hair, you know ; so rich, 
and such a fool. He wanted me to introduce him to our 
La Giralda of Seville, for he was as loose in his morals as 
he was ignorant. Well, when he came here he walked 
up the prison stairs on his knees, and he kissed the skull 
of the saint, kneeling all the while, and the priest — the 
big picaro — -gave him a bit of bone, and told him that 
he would not die for twenty years ; which was a bold 
lie to tell, for the man was worn out with his mancebas 
and his copas, and then the Cuban gentleman was ever 
so delighted, and he gave that priest one hundred dollars 

L 



146 



Over Volcanoes. 



and of them I got, for my share, ten. So I wish that 
you, gentlemen, had come from Cuba/ 

i And did the slave-owner live twenty years more ? 1 
asked the Cashier. 

' He left Seville directly/ replied John. 6 But the 
priest told me, with a wink, a year afterwards, that he 
died in a month or two, but that very likely was a lie. 
Here we are in the convent garden/ he continued ; ' so 
pick some flowers, gentlemen. They are all mine.' 
The hedges of roses were lovely, and it was more plea- 
sant to be among them, on that spring morning, than 
in the cavernous church, w T ith its venal priest, the dirty 
boy, the foul well, and the mythical skull. The sendee 
of the English Church, too, which w T e attended at 
eleven, was an agreeable change, and a Spanish hymn, 
which lay on a seat, stirred me up to translate its first 
two stanzas in the same metre as the original. They 
are as follows :— 

Darksome, ~,dreary, 

Billowy, weary, 
Sinner, is thy surging sea ; 

Fear and shrinking 

Grow from thinking 
Of the shipwreck which must be. 

Yet beside thee, 

And to guide thee 
Free from thy impending loss, 

Is a Pole Star ; 

'Tis the sole star, 
'Tis the Lighthouse of the Cross. 

There was divine service in the same room again at 
our o'clock, and then, by the invitation of the Episco- 



A Sunday in Seville. 147 

palian chaplain, a Presbyterian minister preached. The 
congregation was small. In fact, with the exception of 
the five dogs and the one cat, it was much the same as 
that at the convent. Under the circumstances, perhaps, 
the sermon might have been shorter with propriety, 
and a little less eloquent But possibly the preacher 
thought that the smaller the audience the greater 
was his obligation to each individual present. In the 
evening, at the Spanish Reformed Church, the case, so 
far as numbers are concerned, was very different, for 
there a large room, in the worst part of Seville, was filled 
to suffocation with 500 people belonging, for the most 
part, to the lowest class. Here, the chief preacher was 
Carrasco, the orator of that great Spanish Presbyterian 
movement, of which the world will hear more. He 
was not, however, the only speaker, for in the course 
of the service an ordination of three pastors took place, 
all of whom addressed the people, who had previously 
been exhorted by Cabrera, Alhama, and three other min- 
isters, one of whom, an ex-priest, must have been nearly 
seventy years of age. The service was in the main 
Presbyterian, but the Te Deum, rendered into rhyming 
Spanish, was sung to a Roman Catholic tune, and the 
* Holy, Holy, Holy/ of Heber, admirably translated by 
Cabrera, was also introduced with the music so well 
known in England. When Cabrera had given the bless- 
ing, he and the other ministers fraternised with the con- 
gregation in the church, having previously kissed each 
other on both cheeks. It was evident that all the ini- 
tiated were congratulating themselves on the success 

L 2 



148 Over Volcanoes. 

of the movement, and much, no doubt, has been done. 
But it is easier to destroy one faith than to build up 
another. And let not him who buckles on his armour 
boast as he that puts it off. On my way home I 
accosted a man who had been present at the service, 
and entered into conversation with him. He proved to 
be a native of the principality of Wales, who, having 
learnt how to manage iron-works near Swansea, was 
turning his knowledge to good account at Seville. 

1 You have no such preachers as Carrasco in England, 
sir,' said the Swansea man. 

' Only a few, happily/ I replied ; ' but the Aitkenite, 
or Methodist section of the Ritualists, is trying to intro- 
duce that sort of thing amongst us/ 

' It's the right style/ said the Welshman. 1 You should 
hear our sermons in the language of the Cymry. They 
are so fervid always/ 

The Junior thought of the substantive which the 
great Bishop of St. David's attached to the word ' fervid ' 
when describing the Nonconformist utterings in the 
principality ; and which might be applied with equal 
justice to the ravings of the Reverend Somebody ; but 
he kept silence on the subject, and turned the conversa- 
tion to the prospects of Cabrerismo. 

' It must succeed in the end/ said the Welshman, 
i but it will be a terrible struggle ; and for my part, I 
wish that Carrasco, and Alhama, and Cabrera were not 
so mixed up with the Republicans as they are. I was 
of that democratic way of thinking ten years ago in 
Wales, and I still like the idea of a Republic ; but as 



A Sunday in Seville. 



149 



for Communism and Trades' Unionism, I am too much 
of a master now to put up with such doings. At my 
Works I'll have nothing of the sort ; and I find that a 
man who is a Republican and a Protestant here almost 
always goes in for Socialism/ 

' There will be a fight some day soon,' said I. 'We 
could not help thinking so this afternoon, when we were 
at the military Mass/ 

' Ah,' cried the Welshman, ' I have often heard that a 
military Mass is a fine sight, but I won't go and see any 
popish mummeries.' 

' It's about the grandest sight I ever witnessed,' 
said I. ' Even when there were not more than fifty 
soldiers present at the church of Santa Justina this 
morning, the spectacle was splendid ; but this afternoon 
we saw two full regiments with their bands, and nothing 
could have been more magnificent.' 

'Lots of priests, I suppose?' enquired the man from 
Swansea. 

' Only one person in canonicals. All the acolytes 
were in military uniforms, and nothing was heard except 
the regimental bands, which played military tunes. In- 
stead of a bell at the Elevation we had bursts of music. 
Within the rails were at least fifty soldiers with fixed 
bayonets, and when the rest knelt, these presented arms 
to their King of kings.' 

' Happily,' said the Welshman, 'half of those soldiers 
don't believe in the priests at all. If they did, we should 
soon have bloodshed in Seville. But it must come, 
I believe, and who knows how it may end ? They tell 



Over Volcanoes. 



me/ continued he, - that the Papacy is making converts 
in England/ 

1 It is true/ replied I, ' that some of the idle and 
voluptuous have gone over ; and no wonder, for 
Romanism is the natural religion of such people. It is 
true, also, that some who have emerged from the less 
intellectual sections of the Nonconformists have followed 
their example, as a matter of gentility and fashion. And 
more of the same sort are treading in the same path, 
through Puseyism, Aitkenism, Ritualism, and so on; 
but the heart of England is Protestant. And as for the 
monster of Romanism, it may look larger than usual 
just now, and so terrify some people, but after all it is 
only a shadow.' 

( Ay/ said the Welshman. 'And the shadows of the 
evening are drawn out, So good night, sir.' 



On the Guadalquivir. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

ON THE GUADALQUIVIR. 

It pleased John, for reasons of his own, to send us by 
water all the way from Seville to Marseilles, and 
tickets were taken accordingly, on the understanding 
that the 1 Darro ' steamer was to be left at Malaga, 
and the ' Guadalete ' taken up at the same place, after 
the expiration of a week, during which an excursion to 
Granada might be made. A good plan, under some 
circumstances, this may be, but very much dependent, 
so far as comfort is concerned, on the temper of the 
Mediterranean, which, on this occasion, proved to be 
so unpropitious that the route was ultimately modified. 
However, at the beginning things looked promising, for, 
by the exertion of John, the ladies' cabin of the ' Darro ' 
was secured ; and in this, after wishing our inde- 
fatigable and intelligent guide a cordial good-bye, we 
went to bed at 9 P.M. The steamer was lying in the 
river, but as the captain proposed to start at five the 
next morning, it was thought desirable to be on board 
overnight 

An observant man may find something to describe 
everywhere. One author has contrived to make up a 



Over Volcanoes. 



very interesting book out of the contents of his own 
room, while another discovered all that he required for 
the purposes of literary employment in an old pear-tree. 
But it is not everyone who has the faculty of minute 
observation ; and a man who is not gifted in this way 
will be puzzled to know how to deal with the Guadal- 
quivir. It is the great river of Spain, at least in name. 
Great in the language of the Busne and the Gitano 
alike ; the Wada '1 Kebir of the Moors ; the Len Baro 
of the Gipsies. Great in commerce, great in poetry ; 
but, alas ! also great in disappointments. 

By the Guadalquivir, [Guadalkeeveer] 

As the sun went down, 
By that glorious river [reveer] 

Sat a maid alone. 

These are not very poetical lines, and the rhymes are 
superlatively bad ; but somehow they manage to arouse 
very romantic associations, which are not realised by 
the actual appearance of the much-lauded Boetis. This 
disappointment is particularly felt between Seville and 
Cadiz, w r here the stream is as prosaic and commonplace 
as a broad river can be. However, let us hear what 
Stevens & Co. had to say on the subject 

1 This is delightful!' cried the Senior, when, in the 
early morning, and just after the 'Darro' had started on 
her voyage, he emerged from the ladies' cabin. ' Very 
delightful indeed ; the air is so pure and so fresh/ 

1 By comparison/ suggested the Cashier ; ' 'twas very 
close in the cabin, which is only too conveniently situated 
to please me/ 



On tJie Guadalquivir. 



153 



'You are always grumbling/ said the Senior; 'one 
can't have every convenience on board a Spanish steamer.' 

1 And sometimes one may have too much of a con- 
venience/ said I ; ' but we must see what can be done 
with the ventilation before to-night/ 

' Well, never mind grievances/ cried Mr. Stevens. 1 Just 
look about you, gentlemen, and thank God for giving 
us such a beautiful world. What can be finer than the 
Giralda there ? The river may be tame, but look at the 
view of Seville — dear Seville — which we shall never see 
again. Take a last look at the Sierra Morena, too. 
Ah, what sad things last looks are ! ' 

Contrary to his usual habit, Mr. Stevens was disposed 
to be sentimental ; but the Cashier, although such 
thoughts were very much in his line, did not follow suit 
just then ; but he took a practical view of the scene and 
said : 1 As for me, I'm delighted to see some cattle 
which are not bulls. As we passed over the high 
plains in the north, and had no cheese except the 
cannon-balls of Holland, and ate butter so bad that I 
could not believe cows had anything to do with the 
making of it, I began to think that there were no herds 
anywhere, except such as are preparing for the corridas. 
But in these monstrous pastures there is plenty of beef/ 

i It is fourteen pence a pound, at all events/ said Mr. 
Stevens. 

i You have been led into a mistake which is very 
common/ I replied, ' by the fact that the libra carni- 
cera, that is, the butcher's pound, is twice the weight of 
an ordinary libra! 



i54 



Over Volcanoes. 



'How absurd!* said Mr. Stevens. 'What they call 

cosas de Espana, I suppose V 

'We are no better in England/ said the Cashier. 
' There are scarcely two markets near Ironham in which 
a bushel represents the same measurement.' 

1 What can you expect from agriculturists ?' cried Mr. 
Stevens. ' We don't commit such absurd follies. But, 
to go back to the meat, it is dear enough at sevenpence 
a pound. In England it would not fetch fourpence. It 
is lean, yellow, flabby, and tough.' 

' The lamb is tender,' said I. 

' And w r ell it may be,' he replied. 1 1 saw fifty dead 
lambs shot out of a cart at Seville, and I don't think 
that any one of them weighed so much as a white rabbit 
in Ironham market.' 

'Just look at those rows of cattle by the river-side,' 
exclaimed the Cashier ; s you might fancy them to be a 
regiment of horse-soldiers ! What an enormous number 
of them, and fine beasts too ! ' 

' Where do they live during the summer V enquired 
Mr. Stevens. 1 There is plenty of grass now, but it will 
be parched up by the sun of July ; for I don't see any 
symptoms of irrigation here.' 

'John told me,' replied the Cashier, 1 that they were 
fed during the summer on straw, as ours in England are 
fed during the winter.' 

1 Straw must be dry food with the thermometer at 
100°!' cried the Senior. 'And this is a dry conver- 
sation,' he added, after a pause ; ' I hope you don't intend 
to print it, Kingsman ? 1 



On the Guadalquivir. 155 



' It's all to the point/ I replied ; 1 and we must pro- 
duce statistics sometimes/ 

'Statistics!' cried the Senior. 'You don't call that 
sort of talk statistics, do you ? If you mean to give us 
statistics, you must find out the average weight of that 
breed of bulls there, and the average age at which they 
are killed.' 

' And the proportion of white to black/ added the 
Cashier, ' and black and white to both.' 

'Ay, that's statistics/ said Mr. Stevens ; 1 and I know 
a good many foolish people who are very fond of that 
sort of thing. But let's have some breakfast' 

Accordingly, coffee and rolls were served on deck, and 
the travellers looked about them. 

Certainly the district through which they were passing 
was dreary. It was more so than the Rhine below 
Dusseldorf ; for the plains are so extremely extensive, 
and the towns so few. Acre after acre of green pas- 
tures, and thousands upon thousands of fat kine ! 
Nothing else was to be seen, except aquatic fowls here 
and there, and a trading-vessel occasionally. The very 
name of the country between Bonanza and San Lucar 
bespeaks its nature — Algaida ! desert waste ! and San 
Lucar is Fanum Luciferi — Lucifer's Temple. Can any- 
one be surprised at hearing that San Lucar is the hottest 
place in Spain, or that it was the spot where the minion 
Godoy established his Jardin de Aclimatacion for 
tropical plants and animals? 

Under these untoward conditions the conversation 
flagged, and is not worth recording. It chiefly turned 



^56 



Over Volcanoes. 



on the dishes which should be ordered for the almuerzo, 
or second breakfast, which was fixed for eleven. But 
just at that hour the vessel was on the bar of the river, 
and pitched unpleasantly. However, the meal, duly 
ordered, appeared ; and it was discussed, amid futile 
attempts at merriment; after which we adjourned to 
that side of the vessel where the wind blew on our 
backs, and, wishing that we had travelled by the rail- 
way, fed the fishes. But the view of Cadiz revived us. 
Jutting out into the sea, almost surrounded by water, 
guarded by ramparts from the encroaches both of the 
tides and of other enemies, with a noble harbour, con- 
taining a fleet of vessels in one direction, and, in another 
direction fine buildings, Cadiz, once seen, is not readily 
forgotten. A little boat soon came off, and we landed, 
resolving to spend the night on shore. 



Cadiz and Don Emilio Castelar. 157 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

CADIZ AND DON EMILIO CASTELAR. 

1 1 WISH John had not sent us by sea/ said Mr. Ste- 
vens, as the little boat in which we were ferried to 
the shore tossed about, and the clumsy rower, catching 
the waves with his oar, sent bushels of salt water over 
us. i However, I like the look of Cadiz/ he added ; 
' there is evidently some business going on here; and, 
that being the case, we shall not, I hope, hear of any 
revolutions/ 

1 Cadiz is more discontented/ said I, 1 than any town 
of Spain. It made the last revolution, and is by no 
means satisfied with the results. We shall, from all 
that I hear, see a good many marks of the wild work 
which went on after the ships of Topete had pro- 
nounced against Isabella Segunda.' This proved to 
be the case. Where the convent of the Barefooted 
Nuns used to stand, there is an open space, covered 
with ruins. About this the guide of the Fonda de 
Paris told a strange tale, and, pointing to the trenches, 
which had been opened, asserted that seven cart-loads 
of human bones had been found, although no burials 
were known to have taken place within the precincts. 



153 



Over Volcanoes. 



Of these bones, according to his account, a large part 
were the remains of infants. How far all this may have 
been true, it is not easy for a foreigner to say ; but such 
statements are readily credited in Spain, and Cabrerismo 
profits by them. The political, however, rather than the 
religious revolution, is in the ascendant at Cadiz; and 
the hero of this is Castelar. Accordingly, his likeness is 
in the windows of all the picture-shops, and his books 
are on the shelves in the libraries. This being the case, 
we felt anxious to learn all we could about Don 
Emilio Castelar ; and, as we had the good fortune to 
meet in the smoking-room a literal*}' gentleman from 
England, w T ho professed to be in the employ of a great 
publisher, we thought ourselves in a fair way of obtaining 
the desired information. 

So, after a whiff or two, Mr. Stevens said, ' What do 
you think of Senor Castelar, sir ? People tell me that 
he was born at Cadiz, and that his fellow-citizens are 
very proud of him.' 

1 A shallow man/ replied the literary gentleman : 
' clever, of course, but shallow/ 

1 Have you read " Ernesto" ? 7 asked I. 

' No, sir, I have not,' answered the literary gentle- 
man ; ' but I hear that it is a sensational and trashy 
novel. Doesn't the hero try to drown himself at 
Aranjuez, and get fished out of the canal by his 
mother V 

' There is something of the sort in the book, I be- 
lieve, but there are passages worthy to be remembered ; ' 
and bringing 1 Ernesto ' out of my capacious pocket, I 



Cadiz and Don Emilio Castelar. 159 



read the following passage, which I had previously 
translated into English : — 

4 The self-sacrifices of private individuals are more sublime 
than those of public men. They are more sublime, because 
they are more disinterested, and they are more disinterested, 
because they are done in secret. The love of glory is capable 
of forcing a man to heroism, but those grand instances of un- 
selfishness, which many a lonely hearth presents, exist without 
recompense, and die without a record.' 1 

' Very fine, no doubt,' cried the literary gentleman. * I 
don't deny that Castelar is a novelist and a pamphleteer, 
and also a fluent speaker ; but he is no statesman.' 

' What does he say about the suffrage ?' enquired Mr. 
Stevens. 

' It should be universal,' replied the literary gentleman. 

'What!' cried Mr. Stevens; ' you don't mean to say 
that he wishes the bull-fighters and the Toledo beggars 
to have equal votes with Espartero and Zorilla, and the 
other honest men of Spain ?' 

' I w r as reading the other day,' said I, < the Laws 
of Elections, provincial and municipal, which were 
passed by the Constituent Cortes on June 3, 1870, and 
published in the Gazette on August 21 of the same 
year. The first article of this code decrees that all 
Spaniards are to be electors who are in the full enjoy- 
ment of their civil rights, and the sons of those also, if 
they are of age. And then it is explained that this pri- 
vilege will be lost by those from whom a court of law 
may take it ; by all, against whom a sentence in the 

1 Ernesto, chap. bay. 



i6o 



Over Volcanoes. 



criminal court has been recorded, until such persons 
shall have been inlawed ; by all received into charitable 
institutions, and, finally, by all licensed beggars/ 

' That's right/ said Mr. Stevens ; ' and now, can you 
tell us what is the mode of voting ? ' 

'Art. 57 gives that, and, as far as I recollect, it is as 
follows : — The voters shall come up one by one to the 
table, and, presenting their respective papers of voting 
to the president, shall deliver them doubled, with the 
vote. The president will put this into the urn, saying, 
" The vote of elector So-and-so." ' 

' Then/ cried Mr. Stevens, ' Castelar is no more of a 
Radical than the Constitution of the country in which 
he lives.' 

' But/ said the literary gentleman, ' Castelar in his 
" Formula del Progreso " advocates the abolition of 
customs and excise, and all indirect taxation/ 

' I'm extremely obliged to him/ said Mr. Stevens. * It's 
a very good idea, so far as the customs go. I can't tell 
how many times our little portmanteaux have been 
overhauled for nothing, and this sort of work must be as 
expensive to the Government as it has been troublesome 
to us.' 

' I'm entirely with Castelar as regards indirect tax- 
ation,' added the Cashier. 

The literary gentleman stared, and he evidently 
began to think that he had stumbled into strange com- 
pany. 6 I always thought/ said he, after a pause, ' that 
taxation ought to be indirect, because in that case the 
people pay without knowing it.' 



Cadiz and Don Emilio Castelar. 161 



1 That's just why it is bad,' replied the Cashier ; i for 
people who pay money without knowing it, are sure to 
pay a great deal more than they know, and more than 
they ought to pay. Your argument, 5 he added, ' is 
applicable to a paternal government, which treats its 
subjects like children, but it is quite inappropriate when 
a country is supposed to be free, and to have the 
management of its own affairs.' 

* But how is money to be raised ? ' asked the literary 
gentleman. ' How are the judges, the soldiers, the 
police, &c, to be paid ?' 

' Taxation,' replied the Cashier, ' should be simplified, 
as has been the case with the Post-Office. If this were 
done, the saving would be enormous, and the relief to 
the taxpayer equally great. I would have one tax only, 
that is on houses, and in the case of lodgings on the 
parts of houses. The amount of this should be gra- 
duated, and in proportion to the estimated rental of the 
house, factory, or other building, and it should be paid 
to the Post-Office monthly, with heavy penalties for 
default. When I'm Chancellor of the Exchequer, I will 
give you the details of the plan; this is merely the outline.' 

1 At present,' said the literary gentleman, ' we will not 
discuss questions of finance, in w r hich we are, I believe, 
out of our depths, but let us stick to Castelar. One of 
you gentlemen said just now, that he was no more of a 
Radical than the Constitution of Spain is, but the Con- 
stitution is Monarchical, and Castelar is a Republican.' 

' I can't say that I like Republicans,' cried Mr. 
Stevens. 

M 



l62 



Over Volcanoes. 



' When you have called a man a Republican/ pro- 
ceeded the literary gentleman, 6 you need add no other 
epithet of reproach. He is condemned at once in the 
estimation of every sensible person.' 

I thought of Pericles and Demosthenes, of Milton and 
Washington, of Gavaignac (the good, the brave Cavai- 
gnac), who would have played in France the part of the 
great Virginian if the foolish peasants and fanatic clergy 
had not preferred the heir of Napoleon to him. I 
thought, too, of the humble but honest presidents of 
prosperous Switzerland. But I held my peace ; for the 
literary gentleman had waxed warm, and was establish- 
ing his position with flashing eyes, and many oaths, and 
much striking of the table, which made the glasses jump ; 
moreover, was nodding his head approvingly. So the 
literary gentleman demolished Castelar and all Repub- 
licans, who, he said, ' ought always to be served as Prim 
had served them at Cadiz/ 

' And how was that ? ' asked the Cashier. 

* He had them shot down by his soldiers without 
mercy/ replied the literary gentleman ; ' and I hope 
that Serrano will do the same, if they rise again, which 
they are ready enough to do. I'm a Liberal myself/ he 
added, ' as every Englishman of education is ; but these 
fellows are not fit to govern themselves. All they want 
is a strong hand over them/ ' 

I again reflected. I recollected what these fellows, 
treated thus disrespectfully, had done in days gone by. 
I thought how Fernando Magelhaens had started from 
San Lucar and Cadiz to make the first circumnaviga- 



Cadiz and Doit Emilio Castelar. 163 

tion of the globe. How Don John of Austria, the 
natural son of Charles V., but his real son, as Spaniards 
called him, conquered at Lepanto ! How Cervantes, 
wounded in that battle, was more proud of his maimed 
arm than of all which he had written, although he 
ranks in the list of the world's worthies second only 
to Shakespeare. I thought, too, of Alvuquerque, who 
saved Cadiz from Soult. I thought of Isabel la 
Catolica, of Christopher Colon, of Fernando de Cor- 
dova, &c, and it seemed to me that the Spaniards 
might be fit to govern themselves. 

The real truth is, that nothing but a succession of bad 
kings, beginning with Philip II., has prevented Spaniards 
from retaining that high position which was theirs until, 
in 1596, Lord Essex sacked Cadiz, and Commodore 
Clotildo, of the British Navy, carried off Isabella, who 
married his son Ricaredo. 1 

So the smoking party broke up, and Stevens & Co. 
proceeded to inspect the city. As usual, they had a 
guide, and on this occasion he not only proved to be 
an intelligent man, but also (according to his own ac- 
count) an offshoot of the ducal House of Beaufort. 
So we felt highly honoured, and saw in his company 
the ' Marriage of St. Catherine ' in the Convent of Los 
Capuchinos, from the scaffolding of which Murillo fell 
so fatally that he died in Seville fifteen days afterwards. 
We saw also the new theatre, enormously big and fright- 
fully dangerous, being built chiefly of wood. Of course, 
we visited the two cathedrals, but we could not admire 

1 Espahola Inglesa, by Cervantes. 
M 2 



164 



Over Volcanoes. 



the white marble altar, a present to La Vieja (the old 
cathedral) from the ex-queen in 1866, nor did we like 
the florid Corinthian of the building itself, which, after 
the sombre and unrivalled grandeur of Seville, is un- 
bearable. We visited also La Torre de la Virgen, from 
which an excellent view of the white city with its green 
jalousies is obtained ; and the Plaza de San Antonio, 
where we sat under the trees, but did not hear the band, 
which, by the bye, does not play there, but in the Plaza 
de Mina. After which, unheeding the serpentine invi- 
tations which were hissed at us in the narrow streets 
by the ( ladies of Cadiz/ we went home to dine sump- 
tuously on the king of fishes, the red mullet of the 
Atlantic— the Sultan al hut of the Moors. 



On the 1 Darro! 



165 



CHAPTER XXV. 

ON THE ' DARRO/ 

1 WHERE 's the Cashier ? ' cried Mr. Stevens, as he made 
his appearance at the top of the stairs which lead from 
the cabin of the 1 Darro/ 1 I suppose he left me when I 
fell asleep this pleasant afternoon, and I am almost 
afraid that he was in the middle of a story ; I hope he is 
not angry with me/ 

' There he is, yonder/ replied I, pointing to a heap of 
cork, on which our friend was reclining. 

' But why do you leave him to himself?' enquired Mr. 
Stevens ; ' you have not been quarrelling, I trust ? But 
they say that people who travel together are almost sure 
to do that/ 

1 When they stick to each other too closely, I believe 
they generally do quarrel/ answered the Junior. ' For 
everybody likes to be alone occasionally, and that is the 
reason why I have not been near our Cashier for the 
last two hours. I have an instinctive feeling that he 
does not want me just now ; and, although he is far too 
good a fellow to quarrel with me for boring him, I won't 
put his temper to that trial/ 

1 That is the wisest resolution you have formed for a 



i66 



Over Volcanoes. 



long time, and I wish that people generally would act 
in accordance with it. When I go to stay with my 
cousin Heavywaite, he will not leave my side until he 
has handed me over to his wife, and the consequence 
is, that between them I am bored to death at their 
house/ 

' It will not do, however/ said I, ' to leave our Cashier 
too much alone ; for he soon begins to think of that dis- 
appointment from which he will never recover/ 

i I wish he would forget the poor girl/ replied Mr. 
Stevens ; ' for I should like nothing better than to see 
him the husband of our dear little Anne ; he is just the 
man to steady her.' 

The Junior winced visibly, and, if fathers were not 
proverbially blind to such matters, a secret would have 
come out then. As it was, I turned the conversation at 
once, and said : 6 That is not the only disappointment 
which our Cashier has suffered, sir/ 

' You don't mean to say that any other father has 
been fool enough to refuse to accept him as a son-in- 
law ? ' cried Mr. Stevens. 

' Not that I know of ; but I am sure our Cashier feels 
frequently that he is not likely to make such a figure 
in the world as his abilities would warrant, and that is 
a disappointment to him/ 

' Sir ! ' cried Mr. Stevens, i are you aware that the 
gentleman of whom you are speaking is a leading mem- 
ber of a great Firm ? If so, I should have thought you 
would have felt that such a distinction might satisfy the 
ambition of any man. Besides, our Cashier may be a 
member of Parliament some day, and possibly Chan- 



On the ' Darro! 



167 



cellor of the Exchequer. I like his idea of a single tax 
very much. An enormous impetus would be given to all 
commerce by this simplification of taxation, especially 
if other nations followed our lead, as they have in the 
case of postage-stamps/ 

' But,' said I, ( he ought to have been a clergyman.' 

' A clergyman ! - cried Mr. Stevens; 'you don't sup- 
pose that the profession of a minister of religion grati- 
fies ambition ? ' 

' Surely, sir, it is the first profession in the world. 
Think of the grave subjects with which it deals/ 

' About which/ said Mr. Stevens, 'the clergyman knows 
as much as the layman, but no more, even if he be an 
archbishop. And in this ignorance lies the fallaciousness 
of your view on the subject. For even our little lawyer 
Winkley knows more about actions of trover than I do ; 
and Glueit the surgeon could set my leg, if it were 
broken, although I should be sorry to trust him with 
my stomach. But the Bishop of St. Menevia himself, 
who is, I believe, the wisest man in the world, knows no 
more about the future judgment than you do, or any 
other Christian. Moreover, he would be the first to 
admit his ignorance on those points. So, granting that 
our Cashier is a good man, and a man of ability, I can- 
not think that he would mend his position by being 
ordained. For, certainly, a layman may be a true Chris- 
tian and a very useful man. But, to turn to another 
subject, what cargo has the " Darro " on board ? ' 

' She is very light at present, sir ; but she will take 
in iron at Malaga, and lead at Adra and Almeria. She 
has a good deal of cork, as you see, on the deck/ 



Over Volcanoes. 



1 What passengers ? ' 

i Very few ; and all foreigners/ 

' What has become of our Scotch friends ? The gen- 
tlemen, I mean, who went with you to the bull-fight at 
Seville/ 

' They quarrelled because Cahill and White's Bank 
was closed when they got to the door. They offered to 
fight each other in the street, and parted company, one 
of them going to Madrid, and the other to Cadiz/ 

' What could those old fellows want in Spain ? ' cried 
Mr. Stevens, ' neither of them being gentlemen, and 
neither able to speak a word of Castilian/ 

' Mr. Scott/ replied I, i does his best to improve him- 
self in that respect ; at least, he follows the advice 
given by Murray with respect to frequenting female 
society. Our guide at Cadiz, Mr. Somerset, told me 
that he, Mr. Scott, wished to procure an introduction 
to some of the ladies of Cadiz through him/ 

' The old fool ! I wonder whether he bores the 
ladies to buy him an emetic, as he did you at Seville. 
But the wind is rising, and the ship rolls a good deal. 
He should be here; and, by the bye, where are we now V 

The steward, who had come up, and who spoke 
English, said, ' That bay, gentlemen, is Trafalgar/ 

Tears started involuntarily into our eyes, as is some- 
times the case when cheers are heard unexpectedly, or 
music peals forth. 

' The Cashier will write something about this, I am 
sure ; for he knew all the time where we were, if we did 
not, and I have no doubt that he has been following in 



On the 1 Darro? 



169 



his mind the movements of Villeneuve and Gravina ever 
since we left Cadiz. He will do justice to the Spaniards 
and their admiral, who, on that occasion at least, fought 
gallantly/ 

i Will he give us prose or poetry ? ' 

' Poetry, I hope/ replied Mr. Stevens ; ' for, when 
poetry is good, it is the perfection of language/ 

Just then they were joined by the Cashier, and the 
first words which he uttered confirmed to a great extent 
the anticipations of his friends. 

' Kingsman/ said he, ' I claim for myself the chapter 
on Trafalgar/ 

' I'm delighted to hear that/ replied I. 1 What is the 
style to be ? A poem, an essay, a leading article, or a 
satire ? ' 

' I am afraid/ replied the Cashier, ' that it will be 
called a sermon/ 

' Then it certainly will not be read/ replied Mr. Stevens. 
i But let it be a sermon and be called something else, 
such as Holy Words, or Seed-sowing, or something of 
that sort, and it will sell the whole impression off at 
once/ 

' Well/ said the Cashier, ' the title shall be " Trafalgar; 
or, In Remembrance of me/' ' 



I/O 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XXVL 

TRAFALGAR; OR, IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME. 

After such a campaign as that of 1870, which crippled 
France and effectually extinguished its Empire, the 
panic which produced the Battle of Dorking and Mr. 
Cardwell's Reform in the Army (both of which are 
equally wise) seems a very natural consequence. At all 
events, one can hardly help thinking of the old times 
when England was really threatened with an invasion ; and 
the Cape of Trafalgar tells of the gallant conduct which 
then dispelled all fears of a campaign in the British 
Islands. It is doubtful, however, whether England has 
really taken to heart the most important lesson which 
October 21, 1805, teaches, and therefore it may be well 
to enforce it. 

There was a time, then, in England's history when 
her very existence depended on her navy ; for he whose 
eagles had already feasted on carnage at Berlin and 
Vienna, Madrid and Rome, had promised to sack 
London ; and he was preparing land forces which 
seemed sufficient to effect that purpose, if they could 
once cross in safety the narrow seas. The great question 
then was, could England maintain her supremacy on the 



Trafalgar ; or, In Remembrance of me. i 71 



ocean ? St. Vincent and Nelson were great names, and 
younger men, such as Cochrane, had revived the marvels 
of Lord Peterborough ; but the odds were heavy against 
the Leopards — for so Napoleon nicknamed the lions of 
the British flag — and France had Spain for an ally. It 
was under these circumstances that Villeneuve led the 
French, and Gravina the Spanish fleet out of the Bay of 
Cadiz, amounting in all to 33 sail of the line and 7 
frigates. Under Nelson the numbers respectively were 
27 and 4. On the stronger armada the weaker bore 
down, the order being to engage in close action, to fire 
both broadsides as much as possible, and to consider no 
success complete short of the entire annihilation of the 
allies. One thing only, before the first gun was fired 
remained to be done, and England will never forget 
what that was. In obedience to the command of 
that fragile, maimed, but dauntless Admiral who com- 
manded, a signal was seen to make its way up to the 
mast-head of the flag-ship which bore the auspicious 
name of ' Victory,' and they whose business it was to 
decipher its meaning pronounced the words — 

England expects every man to do his duty. 

The ringing, joyous, valorous cheering which rose from 
each ship in succession, and which was then prolonged 
by all of them together, showed that on that day at 
least England would not have to be ashamed of her 
sons, however the battle might go. A few hours after, 
the triumph had come. But then he, who had planned 
those brilliant and gallant manoeuvres by which the 



172 



Over Volcanoes. 



victory was secured, he who had reaped the exact amount 
of success which he had desired, lay hard hit once more 
— harder hit now than ever— and dying. The words 
which he uttered then are very touching, but not to the 
purpose just at present. They might, however, have been 
as follows, and let us suppose that Nelson had spoken 
thus : — 

' 1 have gained a great victory, and have saved my 
countrymen from an imminent and deadly peril. But the 
triumph has cost me my life. And now, in these my last 
moments, I trust that you who are around me will listen 
to my wishes. 

' I ask, then, neither for a splendid burial, nor to 
transmit wealth and titles to my kinsfolk or friends. 
Let my body lie beneath the waves over which I have 
sailed so often, and let those who bear the name of 
Nelson be content to make themselves illustrious by 
their own deeds, if they can. But one thing I do ask, 
and it is this: Let October 21 never be forgotten by 
my country and her people, but let it continue for ever 
to be the promise of days yet more glorious and more 
happy. So, in remembrance of me, if indeed, my dying 
words have any influence, let my last signal be repeated 
often. Let it fly always at the mainmast of every ship 
whenever the decks are cleared for action, the guns 
shotted and run out. This is my legacy to the navy of 
England. I trust that it may be accepted.' 

Now, had these words been uttered, and these wishes 
thus expressed, no one can doubt that an eager compliance 



Trafalgar; or, In Remembrance of me. 173 

with them would have followed. No one can fail to see 
that an order would have gone forth from the great 
Parliament of the mourning nation, embodying the last 
request of the dead Admiral, who had been the Saviour 
of his country. And so the most cherished tradition of 
the navy, so long as England existed, would have been 
his signal and the words — ' In remembrance of me!' 

But now, supposing that in spite of the expression of 
such a desire on his part, such an order from the Govern- 
ment, and such a tradition in the service, a time had 
come when officers began to forget the dying hero, and 
sailors to go into action without the old signal, what 
would be thought of those who were answerable for this 
neglect ? And if, when zealous men protested that such 
conduct should not be tolerated, it were answered, that 
many were not prepared to do their duty, would this 
be accepted as an excuse ? Would not the reply be, 
' You were aware of the conditions of the service when 
you enlisted ; you have no right now to be faint- 
hearted and untrue' ? Again, suppose that on some great 
day of trial, as momentous as that of Trafalgar, two 
line-of-battle ships and one frigate out of a hundred had 
remembered Nelson's signal, had hoisted it at the right 
moment, and then had gone into action against over- 
powering numbers. Suppose, too, that these had come 
out victors, whilst the rest of the fleet had sheered off 
and piped to dinner, without firing a shot, what would be 
the reception of those ships respectively when all of them 
came into the harbour at home ? I imagine that the 



174 



Over Volcanoes. 



battered vessels which had won the victory would be 
regarded as trophies for ever, and would have their 
names immortalised. While, as for the others, what 
shame and what reproaches ! what dishonour for officers 
and men ! 



Gibraltar. 



175 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

GIBRALTAR, 

The Junior Partner had been mistaken when he said 
that no English passengers were on board the i Darro ; ' 
for he afterwards discovered that the colonel of artillery, 
who has been previously mentioned in this book, had 
joined the steamer at Cadiz. With him we had a long 
conversation, and it is to be hoped that it may prove as 
interesting to the public as it was to us. 

' Sir,' said Mr. Stevens, ' I believe you have seen much 
of Spain and of the leading people in that country ; can 
you tell us what the Spaniards think about our occupa- 
tion of their Rock ? ' 

1 I only ventured to put that question once,' replied 
Colonel N — — , ' and I shall never repeat the experi- 
ment ; for I am not likely to forget the look which came 
over Serrano's face, who at that time was only a colonel. 
" Sefior," replied he, "when you sail from Portsmouth to 
Plymouth, should you like to see the red and yellow flag 
of Spain flying over Portland ? " ' 

* I expected to hear that the annoyance is felt/ said 
the Cashier, ' for the Spaniards are not likely to forget 
that they were the first people in the Old World, and 
the New World too once.' 



176 



Over Volcanoes. 



i Yes/ I added ; 1 and they probably recollect that in 
the great war with France, England and Spain fought 
side by side at the last/ 

1 But/ cried Mr. Stevens, ' we cannot give up Gibraltar. 
Think how we should lose prestige if our dominions were 
to be curtailed/ 

6 Nevertheless, it was a fortunate day for England/ 
said I, ' when we parted for ever with the Duke of Cum- 
berland and Hanover. Think what a burden that country 
would have been to us during the last few years.' 

'Sir/ said Mr. Stevens, turning to the Colonel, 'I 
should like to hear your opinion about retaining the 
fortress which we are now approaching/ 

' Am I to give it in the character of an artillery-officer, 
a rich taxpayer, or a poor taxpayer ? ' asked Colonel 
N . 

* In each, by all means, if you arrive at different con- 
clusions/ replied the Senior. 

' Well, then/ continued Colonel N , i as a soldier 

I should say, keep the Rock by all means, and at all 
costs ; for it is impregnable. It is true that Gib does not 
command the Straits ; it is true also that it rouses the ill- 
will of Spain and France (which is, perhaps, a considera- 
tion for the politicians) ; it is true, again, that in case of a 
war it might be undesirable to station 10,000 men in a 
place which defends nothing, and which would not be 
attacked, if defended ; but, on the whole, speaking solely 
as a soldier, I should vote for keeping the impregnable 
Rock, in case it might be useful some day/ 

Mr. Stevens glanced triumphantly at me, who had 



Gibraltar. 



177 



ventured on some occasions to broach a different opinion ; 
but I returned the glance with an air of equal triumph, 
and certainly the Colonel's argument hardly carried its 
conclusion. 

However, Colonel N continued: 'And as a rich 

taxpayer, I should hold the same view, although upon 
different grounds. I should argue thus : — Let it be 
granted that the retention of Gibraltar is expensive, 
what does that signify ? I can pay all that the State re- 
quires from me with perfect ease. Indeed, I could qua- 
druple my contributions without feeling a penny the 
poorer. Then probably I shall travel some day towards 
the South, and it will be very pleasant to see the union- 
jack flying over a part of Spain, and to find a glass of 
good English porter at the Club House Hotel. Again, 
if the Rock were given up, the ten thousand soldiers 
might be disbanded, and then the chance of seeing my 
son a general would be to that extent damaged. So I 
should decide upon keeping Gibraltar at all hazards, 
and I should regard those who held a different opinion 
as very mean and narrow-minded, and poor creatures.' 

Again Mr. Stevens looked exultingly at me, and 
again I returned the compliment. 

The Colonel proceeded : ' But speaking in the cha- 
racter of a poor taxpayer, that is, speaking as one of 
the majority of the English people, I should regard the 
question more closely ; for to such a person every six- 
pence of expenditure is a serious matter, and every 
extra tax means a sensible diminution of enjoyment. 

4 First, then, I should want to know what the retention 

N 



1 7 8 



Over Volcanoes. 



of Gibraltar really costs in money ; and if it only involved 
the maintenance of 10,000 extra troops, the sum would 
not be a small one. But that is only part of the expen- 
diture. The New Mole was an enormous burden on the 
taxpayers of Great Britain, and the improvements of 
modern gunnery render it necessary to construct addi- 
tional works constantly, in order to protect the fortress 
and harbour. Indeed, it may be taken for granted that 
as long as we hold the Rock, we shall find that a great 
deal has to be done, in order to make the thing com- 
plete/ 

' Allow me to interrupt you for a moment/ said Mr. 
Stevens, * and to ask whether it is true that war-steamers 
cannot carry more coal than is sufficient for ten days ? ' 

' You might say a week/ replied the Colonel. 

f Well, then/ said Mr. Stevens, 'surely it is worth almost 
any money to have a secure depot on the road to India ? ' 

6 Granted/ replied the Colonel ; * but, speaking in the 
character of a poor taxpayer, this does not affect me so 
much as other circumstances which come more imme- 
diately home to myself; and you will remember that, as 
a military man, and also a rich taxpayer, I arrived at 
the conclusion that Gibraltar must be retained/ 

' Well, sir, then tell us frankly what you are driving 
at/ said Mr. Stevens. 

i I mean/ replied the Colonel, ' that taxation in our 
country presses too severely on the poor/ 

4 Do you think, then/ cried Mr. Stevens, aghast, i that it 
is wrong for every Englishman to pay an equal share of 
taxation, according to his means ? ' 



Gibraltar. 



179 



' Certainly/ replied the Colonel, ' this is right. But 
the question is, What are the relative means of dif- 
ferent classes ? It seems to me that a man who could 
quadruple his taxation without feeling the burden, is 
more lightly taxed than one who has to devote the 
few shillings which he had put by for a holiday to 
an extra rate. But what I chiefly want you to see is, 
that the interest felt in the expenditure ought in some 
measure to govern the incidence of a tax. Now out 
of every farthing which the country spends the rich 
man derives some obvious benefit, or he may derive 
some. If he can't go to Court, at all events he can see 
the queen and royal family. Then he has sons in the 
army, sons-in-law in orders, nephews in the navy, and 
cousins in India. So for all these things, and many others, 
it is well worth his while as a matter of business to 
pay, especially since his contributions never prevent 
him from taking his accustomed holiday, or buying the 
pictures for which he has a fancy, or renting his moor, 
or keeping his hunters. But the poor man has no 
interest, or only a little interest, in any of these luxuries, 
of monarchs, armies, navies, Gibraltar, &c. All he really 
wants, or rather, all that he actually uses, is the policeman 
to keep him in order, the parish doctor to keep him in 
health, the parish clergyman to keep him in hope, and 
the county court judge to keep him regular in his pay- 
ments. Now, if nothing had to be provided beyond 
these simple necessities, the amount of taxation need 
not be great/ 

1 But,' cried Mr. Stevens, ' you forget that the rich 

N 2 



i8o 



Over Volcanoes, 



provide the clergyman, the policeman, and the doctor; 
at least the poor pay very little towards these func- 
tionaries, in comparison with the contributions of the 
rich ; besides, the poor have no income-tax/ 

' We are getting into confusion, I see/ replied the 
Colonel, ' by using the term poor first in one sense, and 
then in another ; but I will explain my meaning in a 
few words. A State has its luxuries, as well as an in- 
dividual, and those who cannot afford luxuries for 
themselves are not likely to afford them for the State, 
if they have the option. Therefore those who can 
afford luxuries for themselves must, in a free country, 
be prepared to pay for the luxuries of the State, as 
well as their own, or else they may expect to see them 
given up and abandoned/ 

' But if you tax luxuries you cramp trade,' said Mr. 
Stevens. 

' There should be only one tax/ said the Cashier, 
' and that ought to be on houses/ 

* That's a new idea,' said the Colonel ; ' I'll think that 
over. But of this I am sure, that you rich gentlemen 
will have, in some shape or other, to submit to heavier 
payments on account of the National Exchequer than 
you have hitherto known, or else royalty, and arch- 
bishops, and lord chancellors, and Gibraltar, and many 
other expensive luxuries, will have to be given up/ 

' Ay ! ' cried Mr. Stevens, ' that is the effect of universal 
suffrage.' 

'But universal suffrage,' replied the Colonel, 'is better 
than civil war ; and that curse England must have jn- 



Gibraltar. 



181 



dured, if concessions had not been made to the people 
in time.' 

1 Well/ said the Cashier, ' I must confess that it would 
have been a graceful thing to have given up Gibraltar 
to Spain after she helped us to conquer Napoleon 
And if we could see any prospect of putting down all 
wars by a reference to arbitration, which project was 
discussed at Tours, we might give it up now ; but so 
long as there is a chance of fighting, I suppose that we 
must not surrender such a strong vantage-ground as the 
Rock yonder undoubtedly is/ 

r Sir/ said the Colonel, 'I see you look forward to 
abolishing me, or at least the profession to which I be- 
long ; and I can assure you that I have seen such devas- 
tation lately in France as to make me feel almost 
ashamed of my own calling. But so long as you have 
Romanoffs, and Hohenzollerns, and Napoleons, you will 
have wars/ 

i And/ added Mr. Stevens, 6 we shall have these gentle- 
men, and all the troubles which they bring upon us and 
the world, as long as we have ignorance, and superstition, 
and vice.' 

'Ah!' said I, 1 everything ends, after all, in the three 
R. R. Rs/ 

< And L. S. D./ said the Colonel 

'And R. I. P./ added the Cashier. ' So let Gibraltar 
rest in peace, at least for the present, and let us turn 
into bed/ 



1 82 Over Volcanoes, 



CHAPTER XXVIIL 

MALAGA. 

The view of Malaga from the deck of the 1 Darro ' in 
the early morning was very fine. It is true the tali 
chimneys of the Malcolm iron-works, and the ugly 
buildings, where the sugar-cane is boiled down, rather 
spoil the general effect ; but still the bright-looking bay 
in the foreground, the curious battlemented Cathedral in 
the centre, and the mountains behind, crowned, as they 
are, on the right with the semi-ruinous castle of Alcazaba, 
form a very fine picture. On landing one is a little dis- 
appointed — at least at first. The Alameda, indeed, 
affords a pleasant promenade, with its fountains at each 
end and statues at both sides. But the Cathedral is not 
nearly so picturesque, when you come close to it, as it 
seemed to be in the distance ; and the inside, with the 
exception of the Sagrario, and ' Our Lady of the Rosary* 
by Alonso Cano, possesses little that is interesting to 
anybody. Doubtless, however, in the case of people 
residing at Malaga for the sake of its equable climate, 
and travellers journeying for pleasure, there is much 
to observe and much also to enjoy in this ancient and 
royal (Melech) city. The views also of the Vega, the 



Malaga. 183 

city, and the Mediterranean, must be splendid from the 
neighbouring hills, and especially from Santo Ritaz. 
But having regard to the fact that we were passing 
through Malaga only in the way of business, and that 
we were, or believed ourselves to be, living over a vol- 
cano, it is no wonder that we wished to get on at once. 
But this, for reasons which need not be set forth, we 
could not do ; so we did our duty to the place like 
Englishmen, and the following was the result of our 
observations : — 

1. That the people generally kept pet lambs, and that 
they tethered them at their doors, with a bunch of 
fodder at their heads. 

2. That, always excepting Toledo, the beggars were 
more importunate and more disgusting at Malaga than 
anywhere else. 

3. That the Fonda de Alameda was very comfortable, 
and the cheapest hotel hitherto discovered in the Penin- 
sula. 

4. That a man (this remains a mystery) standing on the 
roof of a high house not overlooking the bay, and some 
way up the mountain, had something which looked like 
a big fishing-rod in his hand, and appeared to be 
using it. 

5. That in certain very narrow streets some women 
with gipsy faces were anxious that Stevens & Co. 
should enter, and pay them a visit. This invitation, 
however, was not accepted ; and, in truth, the serpen- 
tine hiss with which, as at Cadiz, it was conveyed, might 
well have startled the most confiding youngster. 



Over Volcanoes. 



6. That the ladies of Malaga were not pretty. 

7. That it is not worth while to pay a peseta for the 
pleasure of seeing that part of the English Cemetery 
which is locked up, since it is no better than that which 
is open. 

8. That the drive over the hill, and the way back by 
the Velez-Malaga road, is very pleasant, especially when 
the aloes and the prickly-pears are just bursting into 
flower. 

But that which most attracted our attention was 
a certain notice just posted on the bare walls ; for 
this reminded us very forcibly of the volcanic nature 
of the ground on which we were then treading. It 
was stuck up, amongst other places, at the Plaza del 
Riego ; and, in connection with the monument to Torri- 
jos and his forty-six confederates, it was certainly 
startling. For the cypress and the willow and the in- 
scription told of an insurrection which had been put 
down with bloodshed, and the placard pointed to an- 
other rising, which might be equally unsuccessful. It 
was, in fact, a stirring address from the Committee of 
Federal Republicans, then sitting at Granada, to their 
co-religionists at Malaga ; and it was duly signed, in 
monarchical Spain, by a president, vice-president, secre- 
tary, &c, all bent upon establishing a republic ! 

• Hollo, what's this ?' asked the Senior, whose attention 
had been attracted by the crowds which were reading 
the document. 

The Junior (I'm tired of the first person singular) ex- 
plained the meaning of the manifesto. 



Malaga. 185 

1 Well !' exclaimed the Senior, * this is a free country, 
at all events. I doubt whether we should stand this sort 
of thing in England.' 

'What do they propose ?' enquired the Cashier. 

The Junior replied : 6 The men of Granada are of 
opinion that the country is in a frightful state, and they 
admit that they have not mended matters ; they there- 
fore resign their seats in the Republican Committee, and 
they recommend that fresh elections should be held on 
April 23, so that another Junta may be formed/ 

'What! a third?' cried the Cashier. 'I understand 
that there are two sitting in Malaga already — that 
is, one for the province and another for the city, in 
accordance with the laws.' 

' Nevertheless, they want another,' replied the Junior, 
i not in accordance with the laws.' 

' One thing, however,' said the Cashier, 1 1 observed in 
the address^ as you translated it, which is new to me in 
such documents, and I was pleased by it. This is, that 
the Republicans of Granada do not cry out for Liberty, 
Equality, and Fraternity — but for Liberty, Fraternity, 
and Justice. Of course I know that nothing more than 
Equality before the laws (which is justice) was meant by 
sensible and honest people when the term " equality" was 
used in France and elsewhere ; but the word " equality" 
might easily be misunderstood, and I am glad that it 
has dropped out of this manifesto, and that "justice" has 
been substituted for it/ 

1 Equality !' exclaimed the Senior. ' Equality ! What 
a nonsensical idea ! Could any laws which have been 



1 86 Over Volca?ioes. 

ever in the world, or which can be conceived, make our 
Junior Partner there equal to me ? Why we should have 
to divide our money every hour of the day and night, or 
rather, he would have to divide mine, for I should not 
get much of his. And what rubbish would come to my 
share from his pockets ! — a lot of books, most of them 
in languages which I can't read, and reams of foolscap 
paper, scribbled all over with prose and poetry in a 
scrawling, unbusiness-like hand, which, it's my belief, he 
can't read himself. Then there would be a whole heap 
of love-letters, no doubt. That would be my share of 
the division. And do you think I would stand such 
treatment as that ? I would sooner leave my country, 
and make the fortune of Spain, or some other land of 
my adoption ! ' 

The Junior smiled sarcastically. 

1 Well,' continued the Senior, ' I should make money 
anywhere, for I've got the knack. Some people have it, 
and some have not. One generation makes a fortune 
and the next squanders it ; and it does not much signify 
which you do of the two. I can neither take my money 
away with me nor leave my secret of transmutation 
behind me. So, when I'm gone, and perhaps before, 
some handsome spendthrift, Lord Augustus Gogmagog, 
or some such fellow, will marry my little Anne (may God 
bless her !), and keep his hunters and race-horses, and 
turn up his aristocratic nose at the name of Stevens, 
and spend every shilling. Then the little Gogmagogs 
will have to begin at the bottom of the ladder again, 
and do as their grandfather by the mother's side did, 



Malaga. 



187 



if they know how. Thus the world goes on, prosper- 
ing and progressing by the steam-blast which is con- 
nected with its continual ups and downs. This is what 
these Equality fellows have to learn, and they have 
also to be taught that equality means first stagnation, 
then retrogression, then a tumble over the embankment 
into a bottomless pit. As for justice, that is another 
affair. Let there be justice, by all means, all over the 
world ; equal, quick, and sharp justice for all. Judgment 
against me, if I don't give the workman all that I have 
promised him ; judgment against him, if he cheats me 
in his w r ork ; — but judgment quickest and sharpest of all 
against that man who will not allow another to work. 
If the Spaniards have not got this sort of justice, the 
sooner they get it the better, even if they have to fight 
for it. But very little good is ever gained by civil wars ; 
and I hope, at all events, they will put off the next revo- 
lution till we are out of the country/ 



iSS 



Over Volcanoes, 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

FROM MALAGA TO GRANADA. 

The intelligent reader who has travelled so far with 
Stevens & Co. will have perceived that, whatever may 
be their trade, they do not deal in second-hand goods ; 
in other words, that they do not describe places which 
previous w T riters have made their own. Nor have they 
used scissors and paste, which is the vice of some 
literary men ! But the route from Malaga to Granada — 
that is, the way by rail to Archidona, then by diligence 
to Loja, and again by rail to the end of the journey — is 
new ground, and very rough ground indeed it is on one 
part of the way, as will appear hereafter. So no 
apology is needed for the attempt which will be made 
to give some account of this part of Spain. 

On leaving Malaga, then, or rather its railway-station, 
where much esparto-grass is stored, the line passes 
through a very fertile vcga. On both sides the tra- 
veller sees the orange, the fig, the pomegranate, and the 
grape, all cultivated with careful husbandry and obvious 
success. In favourable spots, too, the sugar-cane grows, 
and at every station oranges are heaped up, like potatoes 
in England. After twenty miles, or so, the ground 



From Malaga to Granada. 189 



begins to rise, and on leaving Allora, where there are 
some new and pretty villas, we found ourselves among 
the spurs of those mountains which form such a strik- 
ing background to the panorama of Malaga. After 
this the scenery soon became extremely grand. At 
one time a huge brown precipice seemed actually to 
overhang the travellers, and at another the train passed 
into a mighty cauldron formed by the grand rocks, 
from which there was no visible exit. Here, of 
course, the tunnels were numerous, and the viaducts 
also. Over these the engines passed very carefully, 
and the pace throughout was slow. But amid such 
a series of wild and varied scenes no one could 
wish to move rapidly, and doubtless much caution is 
necessary, although the works appear to be well con- 
structed. At Bobadilla, which is on high tableland, 
ample time — that is, from half-past nine to ten — was 
allowed for an almuerzo ; and, as the passengers from 
Cordova joined the convoy here, all had to change their 
carriages. From this place to Archidona the country is 
something like Wiltshire, only the villages are less 
numerous ; and at the Archidona station, which is 
three or four miles from the town, the railway, for the 
present, comes to an end. Here two diligences, each 
having its team of ten (horses and mules being mixed), 
aw r aited the passengers ; and woe betide the man, whether 
from Malaga or Cordova, who had secured his ticket 
to Archidona, and no farther, beforehand, for anyone 
who had omitted to book to Granada was likely enough 
to stay at Archidona for ever unless he walked on. 



190 



Over Volcanoes. 



Happily, the members of the Firm were provided 
with tickets for the Madrilena ; but as the banquette, 
called here the eeupe, only holds three, and yet is made 
to carry four, the Junior la}' at full length under the 
feet of his two Partners, who, with a singularly ugly 
Spaniard, took up the whole seat. 

It was a doubtful point whether the Madrilena ot- 
her consort would start first, and an important point 
also ; for the dust lay about two inches deep, and the 
heat was considerable. However, ultimately, after the 
delay of an hour, which was spent in altercation with 
passengers who had not secured places previously, the 
Madrilena got under way, and made for Archidona, 
alone: a road which was inconceivably bad. It was 
wonderful how anything on wheels could keep itself 
upright amongst such boulder-stones and pitfalls. Nor 
was this success achieved by all vehicles. At the en- 
trance of Archidona the narrow road was found to be 
completely blocked by a huge waggon loaded with flax, 
which lay helpless on its side. An enormous stone, and 
a cavity of corresponding size, which together formed 
the highway at that point, sufficiently accounted for the 
catastrdphe, and presented an alarming presage of 
coming evils. Both the diligences pulled up, of course, 
and it became very doubtful whether they would catch 
the train at Loja. Unluckily, there were houses on each 
side of the street where the huge mass lay, and the 
diligences could not turn ; otherwise, judging from 
wdiat happened afterwards, they would most likely have 
gone across country at once. But, as it was, no alterna- 



From Malaga to Granada. 191 



tive presented itself, except waiting until the obstruction 
was removed. It was astonishing how little people 
generally seemed to trouble themselves about the 
matter. From the other, and better end of Archidona 
no one came to see what was going on ; and, probably, 
the turning over of a conveyance, and the consequent 
blocking of the highway, was an occurrence too common 
to excite much curiosity. In the immediate neighbour- 
hood of the prostrate waggon those who had cigars lit 
them, while those who had none unloaded the cargo. 
After which a consultation took place, the result of 
which was that five men pulled laterally at the carro, 
up the passage of a house, while eight mules, which 
formed its team, pulled at the rear. This scheme was 
vigorously pursued, although it seemed probable that 
the righting of a waggon would involve the downfall of 
a house, through the barred window of which a half- 
naked urchin was looking out fearlessly. But the 
attempt did not succeed, so the cigars had to be lighted 
again, and further debates ensued. In these, the second 
driver of the Madrilena took a leading part, and if 
only on this account, he deserves to be described. 

A Spanish diligence has three drivers — first, a lad 
who rides the leaders, and who really conducts the ma- 
chine ; secondly, a man who howls 'Macho, otro!' &c, 
continually, except when he is running by the side of 
the macho and the otro with a big stick which he lays 
on the backs of mules and horses in turn ; thirdly, a 
more sedate man, who holds such reins as there are, 
and also shouts ' Macho, otro!' &c, but does not descend 



192 



Over Volcanoes. 



from his seat to enforce his arguments with his whip, 
The second driver may be called the irapyopos avrjp, and 
he is necessarily a very active fellow, who can run as 
fast as a horse, take a good shot with a stone, and climb 
up to his seat, while the diligence is at full speed. The 
iraprjopos of the Madrilena was a particularly agile 
and sharp-witted mancebo. On this occasion, then, he 
recommended that the lateral haulage should be re- 
peated, and that eight of his team should reinforce the 
previous eight already harnessed to the hind wheels 
of the carro. These conditions being observed, he 
guaranteed success. The attempt was made accord- 
ingly ; the mighty waggon creaked, groaned, oscillated 
violently, and at last righted itself, with no other ill effect 
except the fracture of a small projection to one of the 
houses, and a door-step. ' Muy bueno, muy bueno ! ' now 
resounded on all sides. The irapfjopos received the 
congratulations of the Archidona girls, and after the 
lapse of an hour, which had been spent in the manner 
above detailed, the Madrilena proceeded on its journey. 

It seemed probable, however, that the advance would 
not continue long, and that the diligence would soon 
share the fate of the flax- waggon. For the road, unlike 
the royal roads of Spain, which are excellent, was bad 
beyond description, or even conception. No doubt the 
stoppage of the railway at Archidona, and again at 
Loja — that is, the gap between the two places — had 
thrown an immense amount of traffic on a by-way not 
intended originally to be used so continually and hardly. 
But whatever may have been the cause of the ruts, 



From Malaga to Granada. 



^93 



which were like little ditches, the effect of them was 
such as to make the highway absolutely impracticable 
at certain places. This being the case, the diligences 
had taken to the field at certain points, and had pro- 
. ceeded for a mile or so across plough-land or grass, and 
the Madrilena, of course, pursued these unauthorised 
tracks. At first this was rather startling, but after a 
time we became accustomed to these loop lines, al- 
though it certainly did occur to us occasionally that 
the farmers might not like the liberties thus taken with 
their land. At last we had an opportunity of knowing 
by experience not only what these people did think, 
but also what steps they were prepared to take to assert 
their undoubted rights. 

The Madrilena then was running on a loop line, as 
usual, and was at least twenty yards from the king's 
highway, with very rough ground between the two 
tracks, when labourers were seen ahead, and the dili- 
gence pulled up short. Fortunately it was daytime, 
and not night ; for these men, acting under orders no 
doubt, had just finished digging a large and deep trench, 
which effectually barred any further advance on that 
line, which had been till then the actual, although not 
the legitimate, road between Archidona and Loja. 

Under these circumstances, the irapyopos descended 
and surveyed the position, like a good commander. 
It was full of difficulties obviously, and an English 
coachman would probably have quarrelled with those 
who had barred his road, or, at all events, he would 
have made some complaints. But the iraprjopos did 

O 



194 Over Volcanoes. 



neither of these things ; he merely addressed his team. 
He explained to them, and more especially to the 
' macho-o-o-o-o/ that the ditch before them could not 
be jumped, and that they must make for the maldito 
caminOy the cursed road. He informed them that there 
were some big stones in the way, and tremendous holes ; 
but he added that the Madrilena had never capsized 
since he, Juan, had been with it ; that if it did capsize, 
it would have to be righted again, which would be awful 
work for the team. He then administered a flogging all 
round to enforce attention, and started. Like a ship in 
the Bay of Biscay, the huge machine rolled, and, in 
crossing the ditch, by which the real track was fenced, 
it gave an awful lurch, but it did not capsize ; and again 
there was a cry of ' Muy bueno ! muy bueno ! ' 

' After this/ said the Senior Partner, who had held his 
breath, and also his seat, ' I believe that our diligence 
could go anywhere, either by sea or land. It's a won- 
derful piece of mechanism, gentlemen/ he continued, 
' and nothing can upset it. Now I'll tell you what I'll 
do. My doctor recommended me last winter to hunt, 
and I would have hunted, if I had not felt sure that the 
exercise which was good for my liver would be bad for 
my neck ; but, next year, I will go out hunting on the 
Madrilena ; and, what's more, I'll take my wife and little 
Anne, and all the members of our Firm with me. It will 
be something new in Crockshire, and neither hedge nor 
ditch will stop us, if we can only induce Juan to go to 
England and drive his team. But, seriously/ added he, 
this sort of travelling is marvellous. Here we are up in 



From Malaga to Granada, 195 



this banquette — that is, almost as high as the top of a 
good-sized haystack. We have ten in hand — some mules, 
some horses ; we go at a fair pace across ditches and 
ploughed fields, and yet we don't break down, although 
there are no reins to speak of, and the whole turn-out, 
including harness, does not seem to be worth twenty 
pounds/ 

Soon after this adventure the royal road was joined, 
and a team, reduced to six, took the Madrilena to 
Loja, which is the key of Granada, and a very strong 
place. The train had not started ; so the travellers 
arrived at Granada by nightfall. Happily, there was 
^ still some light ; for, otherwise, the Junior Partner, who 
was on the top of the omnibus, would have had his 
head knocked to pieces by the lamp-posts in the narrow 
streets through which the conveyance proceeded to the 
Washington Irving Hotel, which is within the precincts 
of the Alhambra. 



O 2 



ig6 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTEPv XXX. 

THE BEGGARS OF SPAIN. 

The most industrious persons in Spain are the mendi- 
cants. This looks like a paradox, but it is a solid fact. 
Other people may sleep during the midday heat, but the 
beggar, so long as there is anyone to be seen abroad, or 
any chance of making people in their houses hear, pursues 
his work. Others may be too careless to advertise their 
wares in the ' Correspondencia ' or the 1 Igualdad; or even 
lift them down from their shelves ; but the Lazarus of 
Spain diligently forces his stock-in-trade — viz. his sores 
— upon a reluctant public, and will not be satisfied with 
any refusals, however stern and frequent they may be. 
Xo doubt these busy, persevering folks treat themselves 
to seasons of recreation, like the members of their fra- 
ternity in other countries. Xo doubt they have their 
tertuliaSy their corridas, and their cock-fights, after the 
hours of business ; but whilst they are pursuing their 
chosen avocation, they stick to it with an amount of 
pertinacity which in any trade would ensure success, 
and which, in a more honest calling, would be highly 
laudable. For it must be confessed that the trade is not 
an honest one, since, in order to succeed, a beggar must 



The Beggars of Spain. 



197 



inflict upon his neighbours an article which they not only- 
do not want, but which fills them with loathing when 
presented to them. 

Everyone, however, in Spain, who is not himself a 
mendicant, must suffer from this plague more or less ; 
but we endured in this way more than most, for the 
Head Partner looked like a rich man, and he likes 
at all times to make it clear that he is one. More- 
over, he has a very kindly face, which attracts im- 
postors of all sorts, some of whom occasionally get 
rather deep into the books of Stevens & Co., and cause 
bad debts. So the beggars saw that they had a man to 
deal with who was very suitable for their purposes, and 
the Senior increased unwittingly his natural disadvan- 
tages. As thus : an urchin held out his hand to the 
rubicund gentleman, asking for charity, whereupon the 
Senior, smiling blandly, held his hand out also. More- 
over, he graciously accepted all roses, pinks, or orange- 
buds which were offered to him ; and when money was 
asked in payment, he then returned the flower, with 
great politeness. Of course this playfulness usually 
ended in a shower of small coins, and the sight of these 
brought a thousand more claimants on his purse. Still, 
in spite of much provocation, Mr. Stevens kept his temper 
for a long time. Perhaps he thought of the volcano on 
which he believed himself to be standing, and fancied 
that even a beggar might prove a useful ally in case of a 
row. But gradually he began to feel the infliction, and 
to be heartily tired of the solicitations which seemed to 
amuse him at first. Instead, therefore, of holding out 



1 98 



Over Volcanoes. 



his hand when a beggar presented a hungry and itching 
palm for charity, the Head of the Firm now showed a 
disposition to strike out with his cane ; so that the 
junior was obliged more than once to put the switch 
aside, lest mischief might ensue ; for every Espanol is a 
gentleman, and must not be treated with indignity. At 
Toledo, ' los pobres fingidos, tullidos falsos, cicateruelos 
de Zocodover' 1 (the sham poor, the false cripples, the little 
wretches of the Zocodover) were very troublesome. There 
every fourth person seemed to be a beggar ; and the 
phrase by which, according to Murray, the tormentor is 
exorcised, had lost its efficacy. Stung by these gadflies 
wherever he turned, the Senior exclaimed, as he looked 
round the crowded Zocodover, ' Why don't the police 
interfere here ? What is the use of the blunderbusses 
and the cutlasses of these guardians if they can't stop 
this pest ? Apply to a policeman, can't you, Kingsman ? 
If I spoke the language, I would soon put these people 
straight.' The Junior replied that it would be useless 
to invoke the assistance of the Guardia Civil. 

' Well,' cried the Senior, ' there Is a clergyman * — and 
he pointed to a priest who was passing — ' complain to 
him at once, for he cannot sanction such proceedings.' 
Again the Junior declined to subject himself to a refusal. 
' I wish I could talk/ said the Senior ; i I'll never go 
anywhere for the future where I can't talk.' He was, 
however, soon convinced that there was nothing to ex- 
pect from the priests in the way of discountenancing 
beggars ; for, in the very coro of Toledo, two little boys, 

1 La ilustre Fregona, by Cervantes. 



The Beggars of Spain. 



199 



in those red dresses which would have charmed Mr. 
Maconochie, tugged at the Senior's coat to attract his 
attention, and solicited alms, while some dignitaries, still 
remaining in their stalls, though the Mass was over, 
looked on approvingly. After this the Senior gave 
up all idea of putting down the pest, and added the 
beggars to the number of those calamities which he had 
to endure while in Spain. 

The Cashier, however, was so interested by the phe- 
nomenon of mendicancy, as exhibited before him, that 
he was resolved to understand the question if he could. 
Accordingly, addressing one day a certain hidalgo of 
Granada, w r ell acquainted with the cosas de Espana, and 
with England also, he asked him, ' Where do all those 
beggars come from who abound wherever any travellers 
are to be found ? Are there naturally in this Peninsula 
more halt, lame, and blind than exist elsewhere ; or do 
people disfigure themselves for the purpose of attracting 
the charity of their richer neighbours ? ' 

' I have a theory on the subject/ replied the Spaniard, 
' which I offer for your approbation, or at least for your 
investigation. And it is this — that all these people, from 
every part of the country, are attracted to such places as 
seem most likely to supply their wants. Let me explain 
my meaning. In England, as you know, a poor creature 
who is disabled, by nature or accident, dwells among 
his own people, and is supported there, partly by public 
funds, partly by his poor relatives, and partly by charity. 
So he rarely moves away, having his needs supplied at 
home. But with us such means of support are wanting 



2GO 



Over Volcanoes. 



in all country places, So in Spain, if a poor fellow has 
no nose, or a clubbed foot, or is a paralytic, he throws 
himself on the world with his sores and his miseries, in 
the hope that these, by exciting compassion, may find 
him sustenance. But, in order to effect this purpose, 
he must of course make his way to Seville, Malaga, 
Toledo, or Granada, where many people are collected, 
and beggar}- is tolerated.' 

'But/ enquired the Senior, 'if your people, born in 
poverty and afflicted with disease, have so much enter- 
prise as to migrate from remote villages to more popu- 
lous places, how is it that more persons do not rise from 
the ranks, and acquire wealth and distinction, which is 
the case so constantly in England ? ? 

' You may well ask that question/ replied the 
Spaniard ; i for, in truth, we cannot point to many 
carters of Logrono who have become, like Espartero, 1 a 
Regent of Spain and a Duke of Vittoria. But the fact 
is, that while there is a career for mendicants, there are 
not many openings for honest men, and the most which 
a poor lad of genius, enterprise, and good conduct can 
attain is the soutane of a priest, or the gaiters of a 
Guardia Civil, unless, indeed, he has the luck to draw a 
prize in the lottery.' 

i Who can wonder,' said the Senior, 4 at prommcia- 
tnentos, when gambling, and soldiering, and licensed 
mendicancy are the only roads which a man of ambition 
can follow with any prospect of success ! The country 
must always be on the brink of an eruption. But, sir/ 

1 Espartero was bora at Almodovar del Campo. 



The Beggars of Spam, 



201 



he continued, ' you yourself are a man of business, and 
you must see how seriously the begging system affects 
legitimate trade. Here am I in Granada, having come 
to this place with plenty of money in my pocket, and 
wanting to spend it now ; for I suspect I shall never 
come here again. Well, there are lots of pretty things 
to buy, and costly things too — mantas, fans, &c. — 
old cabinets especially ; very beautiful, elaborate, and 
unique. Terra-cotta figures, too, of Andalusians, Man- 
chejans, &c, and plaster models of the Alhambra, very 
correct and lovely. Well, I start from the " Washington 
Irving" in excellent humour, having had a capital almu- 
erzo y and I am willing to pay anything in reason for 
articles which I propose to show to my friends at 
Ironham, as having been purchased in Spain. But no 
sooner am I outside the doors of the fonda than my 
good-humour vanishes. For a little black-eyed girl, 
with no clothing on her back, or front, worth speaking of, 
presents me with a rose. If I accept it, she holds out 
her dirty palm for charity ; if I give her a maravedi, or 
whatever the little coins are called, she wants half a 
peseta, or else she must have the rose back again. I 
have no sooner delivered myself from her, and a score 
like her, than a man without a nose w T aylays me, and I 
heartily wish that he would follow his nose, and dis- 
appear. But this he is not likely to do. On the con- 
trary, at every step we pick up recruits, who swell 
the great army of miserables, by which I am escorted 
through the town. I dive into a shop at last, and they 
follow me in, or else they remain at the door, rejoicing 



202 



Over Volcanoes. 



over the proofs thus afforded them that I have money 
with me, and that so I can give them some, if I am 
Sufficiently tormented. Now I ask you whether I, under 
these circumstances, am in a frame of mind to make a 
purchase pleasantly ? No, I am not. On the contrary, 
I am disposed to haggle for every halfpenny ; the 
consequence of which is, that I am very disagreeable, 
and at last I end by buying nothing. So out of the 
shop I go, and am hunted back to the fonda. I only 
wonder that they let me sleep at night/ 

Said the Junior here : 1 They tried their best to prevent 
me from getting any rest at Seville. You remember, 
perhaps, that my room looked into a narrow alley, while 
yours, happily, had its windows towards the Plaza Mag- 
dalena. Well, my alley was called Poor Man's Alley, and 
a very appropriate name it was, for the beggars swarmed 
there. And no doubt they whined and whimpered all 
the day long, just as they did at night ; but, like the 
light of stars in the sunshine, their voices were merged 
in the general and still louder hum around them. At 
night, however, they came out with wretched distinct- 
ness, and the whole business was managed with a 
cleverness which one could not help admiring. For 
they did not all whine at once, nor was there any con- 
tinuous noise, since this might have promoted sleep. But 
first one man whimpered out his claim for " Limosna-a ! 
limosna-a ! " Then there was an interval — a moment of 
delightful silence — during which the patient, on whom 
the beggars operated, was intended to dose. After this 
short reprieve, a woman recited her dismal dirge for 



The Beggars of Spain. 



203 



" Carida-a-ad ! " Then came another pause, and again 
another appeal, until I fell asleep. Yes, I fell asleep, 
for I can stand anything in that way. But in the case 
of ninety-nine travellers out of every hundred this 
attack of the night beggars must prove a complete 
success ; for sleep is essential when the hard work of 
sightseeing has to be done, and the windows at Seville 
must be open for fresh air at all times. But how, under 
the annoyances thus judiciously applied, is any ordi- 
nary man to sleep ? No doubt, therefore, as a general 
rule, the worried, persecuted creature from England or 
the States, having paid dearly enough for his lodgings, 
especially if it be the Holy Week or fair time, rushes 
out of his bed, towards twelve o'clock, into the Alley of 
the Paupers, and makes any terms with the banded 
enemies of his repose. In my case, however/ continued 
the Junior, ' the wretches got nothing. For against this 
sort of evil, and against many others also, one who was 
on a certain foundation while the good old Tory prin- 
ciples ruled there, is hardened. He who has slept 
while rats issued from their holes under his bed, and 
then raced wildly over the oaken floor ; he who has 
slumbered on through a drinking in, until his wooden 
bedstead has been turned on end, and his heels raised for 
a moment some five feet higher than his head, is proof 
against the utmost endeavours of Spanish beggars — even 
although they prolong their evil industry through the 
weary hours of the sultry night at Seville.' 

' I can understand now/ said Mr. Stevens, ' why I 
have spent so much money with El Coronel de Artilleria, 



204 Over Volcanoes. 

Senor Valera, and so little with anybody else. When I 
was in his barrack-yard I was free from the mendicants. 
So we saw the fine old cabinets, which once belonged 
to the grandees of the Alpujarras, while I was in a good 
purchasing humour ; and, if El Coronel did not get 
exactly as much as he wanted, we did succeed in agree- 
ing upon a price at last. Now, I attribute this result 
solely to the sentries who protected the quarters of a 
colonel of artillery/ 

6 But/ said the Cashier, ' did it not strike you as an 
odd thing that a man occupying the high position of 
Colonel Valera should deal in cabinets and old boxes, 
and antique fans, and curiosities generally? ' 

6 He is expecting squalls/ replied the Senior, 'and so 
is realising on his furniture and articles of virtit while 
the sunshine lasts. I don't blame him, I am sure. Nor 
do I see why anybody should not turn a penny, if he 
can. The Duke de Montpensier sells his oranges, and 
most of our noble friends in Crockshire dispose of hares 
and rabbits which have fattened on the fields of their 
tenants/ 

' Gentlemen/ said that Scotchman who has been 
mentioned previously, and who had just joined the 
group outside the fonda door, ' one word about the 
beggars before you determine to shut your hearts and 
your pockets against them. Remember that there is no 
poor-law in Spain ; recollect also that the priests, who 
used to assist the paupers, are almost paupers them- 
selves now. You may depend upon this,' he added, 
* that those cripples and little children are hungry 



The Beggars of Spain. 205 

enough. For my part, I give away a peseta every day 
regularly/ 

* I am much obliged to you, Mr. Scott/ replied the 
Senior, ' for interposing ; and I must admit that the 
little bits of biscuits and oranges which I 'used to give 
away, when I was in a better humour, were eaten 
greedily. So I'll be charitable again ; and if a trades- 
man from Glasgow can afford to throw away his peseta 
a day in alms, the Head of a great English Firm can 
certainly afford a dollar. So, Mr. Cashier, pray see to 
this, and let me have pocket-money for this purpose/ 



206 



Over Volca?ioes. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

GRANADA. 

To no human being, living or dead, does England owe 
so much gratitude as to her Gonzalo de Cordoba, 
Arthur, first Duke of Wellington. And this is due to 
him, not only because his admirable genius and in- 
domitable perseverance saved Europe in Spain and at 
Waterloo, but also because our 1 Gran Capitan/ conquer- 
ing his own prejudices, and those of that patrician class 
to which he had been so deservedly raised, made wise 
concessions, first to Irishmen, and next to Englishmen, 
and both at the right moment. For this statesmanlike 
yielding was even more beneficial to Great Britain than 
his military stubbornness, and it saved his country from 
that terrible series of revolutions under which other 
nations have suffered, and which, if the shocks had once 
struck the complicated and delicate machinery which 
here forms the social system, would have shattered the 
whole fabric irretrievably. 

But while every Englishman, wherever he may be, 
should always feel sensible of this debt, it is natural, 
when in Granada, that gratitude to the Iron Duke 
should come home to his mind in a new and peculiar 
manner. For there he is indebted to 1 El Gran Capitan' 



Granada. 



207 



of England for the great luxuries of pleasant shade and 
most sweet melody. To Granada, the emporium of the 
crops grown on the Duke's estate at Soto de Roma, he 
eave 6,000 elms, and these have flourished so well in the 
irrigated valley, which they have rendered more delight- 
ful than ever, that the nightingales abound in their 
luxuriant branches. No one can walk through the 
avenues of Gothic arches when the sun of Spain is 
shining overhead and the fountains are rippling around 
him, without thinking most gratefully of one now, alas ! 
beyond the reach of praise. For the trees are invaluable 
to the Alhambra precincts, although the proprietors of 
the 'Washington Irving' and the 'Siete Suelos' do not 
like them to grow so close to their windows as they do, 
and have, if reports be true, tampered occasionally with 
the roots. 

But while the Junior has thought it part of his duty 
to be thus diffuse on this particular point, he does not 
intend to enter into any other details in reference to 
Granada. The place belongs already to great writers 
who have preceded him ; one of whom, by the bye — 
viz. Mr. Ford — has carved his name (strange to say) on 
the Lion Fountain. He will then merely add that, while 
the Cartuja is made of too little account by the guide- 
books, and shown off badly by the local guides — who draw 7 
attention chiefly to fanciful heads in the marble, the 
painted cross, &c. — the place itself, with its inlaid doors 
and stones from the Sierra Nevada, is, in its way, al- 
most as curious as the Alhambra. So no more about 
Granada. 



208 



Over Volcanoes. 



Whilst I was writing these words, the Senior looked 
over my shoulder, and spoke as follows : — 

' Sir, I must protest against that resolution of yours. 
It is monstrous. I can assure you that the disap- 
pointment will be severe and universal, if you stop short 
in that way, especially after such fine sentences as those 
with which your chapter commences. I say that you 
must describe Granada^ with its Alhambra, its Generalife, 
and its Cathedral. You must do it, too, as well as you 
possibly can.' 

The Junior happened just then to be in a desponding 
humour ; for he had heard that morning from his sister 
in England of a certain visitor to the Senior Partner's 
fireside, which news had made him uncomfortable. 

So he said : ' I fear, sir, that you very much over- 
estimate the effect of our book. In my opinion, I shall 
have great difficulty in selling the MS., and only the 
circulating libraries will buy a few copies of it, if it should 
be printed. It will be pleasant, of course, for ourselves and 
our friends to look through it occasionally ; but we must 
expect no success beyond this, and we need not trouble 
ourselves about any disappointment which the public 
will feel on the subject/ 

i There, again,' cried the Senior, ' I entirely dissent 
from your views ; for I intend to write a chapter myself, 
or rather, I mean you to write one for me. Besides, the 
name of Stevens & Co. will sell the book Yes, sir, I'll 
ensure the sale. But then will come the dissatisfaction 
with the purchased article, and that idea is intolerable 
to me ; for Stevens & Co. are not used to hear cus- 



Granada, 



tomers find fault with their wares. On the contrary, 
as soon as anyone has bought that particular article 
which our Firm sells, he is aware that he has acquired 
the very best thing of the sort which can be produced, 
and that he has purchased it at the lowest possible 
price compatible with a fair profit. He smells it, and 
he is gratified ; he pinches it, and is delighted ; he 
doubles it up to test its quality, and he is grateful to 
Stevens & Co, for making goods which are in every way 
so admirable. But this will not be the case with our book, 
unless you turn out some fine writing about Granada, or 
hire a man to do it for you. For, supposing you cut 
that chapter as short as you just now proposed, what 
will happen ? A young lady will purchase the work ; 
let us say, my daughter Anne, for instance, w T ho is quite 
the sort of girl to spend her money foolishly. Well ; 
she will look at the index, and turn straight to 
Granada. Of course she will expect to hear all about 
Zorayda the Sultana, and the old cypress-tree ; about 
the Abencerrages also, and the marks of blood by the 
fountain. She will want to be made acquainted, too, 
with the sorrows of Juana la Loca — poor crazy Jane — 
the daughter and the mother of the greatest princes who 
figure in Spanish story. You know we saw her suite of 
apartments to-day, with the staircase barred, lest she 
should kill herself in despair at the loss of her handsome, 
faithless Philip. You see I am quite poetical on the 
subject ; but the fact is, I am only quoting our Cashier, 
who, as you know, can write verse with anybody. And 
the antiquary will turn to the very same chapter ; for 

P 



2IO 



Over Volcanoes. 



he will want to read a description of the tombs in the 
Cathedral, the monuments of Ferdinand and Isabella, of 
Philip and Juana. The old soldier, too, will suppose 
that he is sure to find something there about the taking 
of Granada by the Great Captain, and how the Alhambra 
was blown up by Sebastiani ; while the subaltern will 
look for a glowing description of the gipsy dances 
at the " Washington Irving," and the songs of that old 
gitano which make the Spanish ladies, who understand 
the words, laugh behind their fans at the smiling, un- 
conscious daughters of England and the States. Then 
there are the mountains of perpetual snow which look 
so well from the Alameda and the cemetery. You 
must say something about the Alpujarras too — the scene 
of so many romantic adventures ; of the Sierra Nevada, 
whose highest peak, Cerro de Mulhahagen, they tell 
me is 11,703 feet. The Alpine traveller will expect 
this ; and who is not an Alpine traveller nowadays ? 
Then there are the Genii and the Darro, rivers famous 
in song, but veiy small and dirty here. I must confess 
if you don't give word-paintings, as they say now, of all 
these interesting features, we shall be in disgrace ; and, 
for the honour of the Firm, I can't stand that. So Til 
tell you what I propose to do. Til arrange with the 
publisher (whoever he may be, and I know of only one 
firm to which I should like to sell myself in this way) 
to return the full price of the book in case any pur- 
chaser is not pleased with his bargain/ 

' I quite approve of that idea/ said the Cashier, who 
came up just then ; ' but there must be some conditions/ 



Granada, 



21 I 



' Of course/ replied the Senior. 1 Let me finish what 
I have to say, and you will hear them. Every 
person, then, who, being dissatisfied with the lite- 
rary work made up by Stevens & Co., wishes to part 
with the said book, must send in his claim to the pub- 
lisher in writing, which document must be signed by any 
two county magistrates, not being barristers, who have 
passed with credit some examination in jurisprudence, 
and it must be endorsed by the same number of her 
Majesty's Inspectors of Schools, who shall have served a 
creditable apprenticeship to a milliner, or at least to a 
tailor/ 

' Those terms will do capitally/ said the Cashier, 
laughing ; ' and there ought to be no difficulty in pro- 
curing the necessary signatures. For surely in a civilised 
country no one would be allowed to administer justice 
who had not satisfied some Board as to his competent 
knowledge of legal matters ; and I cannot suppose that 
gentlemen presume to give a judicial opinion with re- 
spect to sewing, on which verdict the reception or non- 
reception of money depends, without having undergone 
the ordeal which is needful for the acquisition of that 
peculiar knowledge/ 

'And now that this delicate point is settled, I have 

something more to say/ continued the Senior, i which 

is this. As for me, I shall have no more children ; 

and I want none besides my own little Anne, who 

gives me quite enough trouble. And our good and 

wise friend, the Cashier, will never marry, because — 

well, I didn't mean to give you pain, my dear partner ; 

p 2 



212 



Over Volcanoes. 



so we will say because my little Anne, and half a dozen 
other girls, are running after you. But as for this Junior 
Partner here, he will have a wife and children — a mon- 
strous family, probably — which some one will be ex- 
pected to keep; for if he ever finds himself outside of our 
Firm, which may be his fate, he will never make a penny. 
Now, I'll tell you what I propose to do. I'm a great 
believer in the power which Christian names exercise 
over the formation of character. I never knew a maid- 
servant called Wilhelmina or Georgina who turned out 
well, or a Rhoda or a Lizzy who turned out badly. So 
I'll bring up any daughter lawfully begotten by our 
Junior who shall be called Granada. And I feel sure 
that his Granada will be as pure as the Sierra Nevada, 
as graceful as the Dos Hermanos, as musical as the 
nightingales and the fountains, as sunny as the Vega, 
and as sweet as the rose-gardens of the Generalife. 
In fact, she will be all that this beautiful, lovable 
Granada is, and who can say more than that ? ■ 

Of course the Junior thankfully acquiesced in this 
proposal, and so to the family of dream-children, to 
the happy circle of the daughters w r ho may be, but are 
not yet — of which household Mabel and Janet are 
members — Granada was at once added. 

And now welcome to the Granada of the future ! 
and farewell to the Granada of Spain, the Granada 
which must soon be to the Junior a thing of the 
past ! Farewell to her Alhambra, the Alcazar of all 
Alcazars ! Farewell to its beautiful Court of Myrtles, 
where the loveliest Sultanas of the world once bathed ! 



Granada. 



213 



Farewell to the Generalife, still redolent of roses and 
orange-blossoms, as of old ! Farewell to the Albaicin, 
from which, by the church of San Nicolas, one of the 
finest views in the world is to be seen ! Farewell to the 
Darro walk, with its twelve apostles ! And farewell 
also to Jose and Mariana, worthy successors of the 
Bensakens, father and son (whose end was sad) ; and 
of Ximenes, who has made his fortune by the lottery ! 
Farewell to the caves of the Gitanos, and the flat-roofed 
houses of the Moors ! Farewell to the shades of Isabella 
la Catolica; and Maria Pineda, saint and martyr in the 
calendar of the Liberals ! Farewell, in one word, to the 
fairest and, at the same time, the most romantic spot 
on the earth ! The stranger from a distant land, know- 
ing nothing of the language engraved on the Alhambra's 
walls, and but little of that spoken now within its pre- 
cincts ; the stranger pestered by mendicant children, 
who offer him a rose as a free gift, and then demand a 
peseta in payment for it ; the stranger harassed by the 
thought of a bad Isabellino, palmed on him by a dis- 
honest waiter, and bored by a brother-Englishman, who 
is abusing Jose Serfaty because he (the Englishman), 
and not Jose, has left his portmanteau behind ; the 
stranger, in fine, bothered by all the petty annoyances 
connected with the start from an hotel, leaves Granada 
with the deepest regret. What, then, must have been 
the feelings of him to whom the Sierra and the Vega, 
the Alhambra and the Generalife, once belonged ; to 
him who had hunted in the Alpujarras, and had re- 
clined after his exertions on the marble floors of Los 



214 



Over Volcanoes. 



dos Hermanos ; of him, for whom the fountains in the 
Court of Lions had played, and under whose banners 
Albaicin and Zocatin had mustered ; what must have 
been his thoughts when he was forced to say — Farewell ? 
The sandy knoll on the way to the mountains may or 
may not have been the spot which heard 6 el ultimo sus- 
piro del Moro' — may or may not have been the declivity 
which witnessed those tears of Boabdil which Ayesha, 
his mother, rebuked. But we may be sure that some- 
where or other during his hurried ride to the Alpuj arras 
the conquered Emir pulled bridle, and looked back sor- 
rowfully on all that he had lost ; that he thought of 
those dissensions which had deprived him of that Acro- 
polis where his fathers had reigned, and the intrigues and 
the iniquities out of which those quarrels had sprung. 
As yet two beings only have suffered as he did, and both 
of them suffered still more. For the first lost Heaven, 
and the second Eden. It is to be feared, however, that 
the day of judgment will swell the number of those who 
look back regretfully on glory, honour, riches, and power 
—all lost, and lost solely by their own fault. 



On the Mediterranean again. 



215 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

QN THE MEDITERRANEAN AGAIN. 

The return to Malaga was by the same route as that 
which had been travelled on going to Granada, and 
therefore very little need be said about it. The only 
observations made were as follows : — - 

1. That the Vega of Granada, irrigated by the Genii 
and the Darro, is extremely fertile, and that the grati- 
tude of the Spanish nation has given to the Duke of 
Wellington a fine property at Soto de Roma. 

2. That Loja looked very strong, and that its position 
justified Gonzalo de Cordoba and Narvaez in having 
selected it as a place of refuge, when out of favour at the 
Spanish Court 

3. That peace had been made at the Antiquera station 
between the porter and the Guardia Civil ; the latter of 
whom had been seen, on the previous journey, hitting 
the former over the head with his clubbed blunderbuss. 

4. That two mules lay dead by the side of the 
villanous road — victims, no doubt, to its roughness. On 
the carcasses of these the wild cats and hawks had had 
much feasting, and they seemed likely to clear off all 
except the bones pretty soon. 



2l6 



Over Volcanoes. 



The second visit to Malaga was shorter than the first, 
but equally pleasant, When the i Guadalete ' hoisted her 
signal for starting, we went on board, leaving behind 
us a terrible fire, which had broken out in a house 
just opposite to our hotel, So we were on the Medi- 
terranean again. And, viewed in the flattering glass 
of John's description (that John whom, it is to be 
hoped, the reader recollects), nothing could be more 
pleasant than our position, nothing more delightful 
than the prospect of a voyage all the way from Malaga 
to Marseilles. It was, indeed, so he asserted when we 
left Seville, the very journey for a Caballero Ingles 
to make. 'Twas like travelling in the Senior's own 
yacht There would be no wind, of course ; the cabins 
were excellent, the table dhote first-rate, the captain 
obliging, and the stewards attentive. Moreover he 
added, i You will see Cadiz rising out of the ocean, and 
apparently surrounded on all sides by the Atlantic 
waves. You will stop at Algeciras, and have an oppor- 
tunity of visiting Gibraltar ; and, by taking another boat 
at Malaga, after the expiration of a week, you will have 
plenty of time for Granada/ 

It will have been seen that part of the promise was 
realised, but the rest, after Homeric and Virgilian 
fashion, vanished into thin air. 

However, Stevens & Co, did have a good view of 
Cadiz, both on approaching and on leaving it, which 
view deserves all that has been, or can be said in 
its favour. Trafalgar and Gibraltar also were passed 
in succession. Malaga and Granada were thoroughly 



On the Mediterranean again. 217 

studied. Adra, too, with its sugar swamps was glanced 
at; and on Sunday morning the harbour of Almeria 
was entered — a harbour resounding on that occasion 
with English talk of a somewhat strange sort. For 
a handsome, intelligent young Almerian had returned 
to his home, after a sojourn of three years in England, 
and all his friends, who seemed to be the chief people 
of the place, having come to witness the happy meeting 
between the traveller and his proud parents, thought 
it needful to offer their congratulations in English. It 
was rather amusing, but, at the same time, a pretty 
and a very touching scene. After a while Stevens 
& Co. succeeded in obtaining a boat, in which they 
also proceeded to the shore, and viewed, in company 
with their friend Mr. Scott, Almeria, Moorish alike 
in name and in character. A strange place it is, and 
frightfully hot in summer, no doubt, but in April 
pleasant enough. Very strong, too, it must have been 
once, for the ruined battlements are extensive. Among 
these the prickly pear, with its yellow blossoms, grows 
luxuriantly ; and under the shade of the battered walls 
the Scotchman and the Englishmen looked at the pro- 
spect before them ; and the former explained to the lat- 
ter — not for the first time — that his chief desire just then 
was, that there might be a good storm at sea, for the 
benefit of his stomach and chest, which wanted, as he 
said, ' a good clearing out' It is hardly necessary to 
add that his companions hoped the prayer would not be 
heard. However, it was answered so completely that 
Stevens & Co. left the ' Guadalete ' for ever at Alicante, 



218 



Over Volcanoes. 



instead of proceeding on to Marseilles, and, of course, 
forfeited their passage-money. But this matter requires 
to be narrated at length. 

In the harbour of Cartagena, then, although it is shel- 
tered on all sides by high hills, the waves were far too 
boisterous to be pleasant, and when we rejoined our 
steamer, after inspecting the famous colony of the 
Barcas, with its huge, but deserted arsenal, it was not 
easy to pass from the little boat to the deck of the 
' Guadalete.' Prescient of misery, the Senior regarded 
Mr. Scott as another Jonah, and scowled at him re- 
proachfully. However, as it was evening, he consoled 
himself with thinking that the voyage to Alicante 
would be made during the night, that he should sleep 
through it in the ladies' cabin, which had been secured 
again, and awake next morning in another harbour. 
With these hopes we went to our cots at nine, and 
soon fell asleep. At four o'clock the next morning the 
Senior was awakened by the noise of an anchor-chain. 

' Capital ! ' cried he ; ' hurrah, gentlemen ! we're all 
right. I've slept famously, and now we are in the Bay 
of Alicante, no doubt. We will lie an hour or two, and 
then get up and see the place. I hope, however, that 
Scott has been sick/ 

'Where are we ? ' cried the Junior to the steward. 

' Still at Cartagena,' he replied. ' The steamer has 
stayed in the harbour all night/ 

The reason for this delay was soon explained. It ap- 
peared that a lady on board had expressed a wish to 
have a good night's rest, and the captain was too gallant 



On the Mediterranean again. 219 



to refuse her such a reasonable request. Finding how 
things were, the Junior suggested that the best plan 
would be to get up at once. But before the others 
could agree whether this was advisable or otherwise, the 
opportunity was lost ; for the 1 Guadalete ' began to roll 
and pitch so violently, that even the steward, who came 
into the cabin for a moment, could not stand. 

' Well/ said the Senior, with an attempt at resignation, 
1 we can lie in bed till we get to Alicante ; the time will 
not be more than six hours, at the outside, so we shall 
be in harbour again by ten.' 

Accordingly the members of the Firm lay in their 
cots, which were uncommonly like coffins, and kept 
themselves as still as the waves permitted them to be. 
During these hours they thought of many things, and 
very possibly they felt a little less kindly towards John 
than they did when they were at Seville ; for now that 
process began which is congenial to the soul of a sea ane- 
mone, but very painful to animals of a higher organisa- 
tion — namely, the process of turning oneself inside out. 
And they did nothing besides this, except look from 
time to time at their watches, which seemed to go very 
slowly. At the expiration of six hours they computed 
that they had arrived at Alicante, and they sum- 
moned the steward to assure them of that fact. He, 
however, informed them that they would not be there 
for another four hours, as the wind was high, which they 
knew before, and also in their teeth, which they might 
have guessed. 

* I wish that our teeth had something better in them 



2 20 



Over Volcanoes. 



to play with, 5 said the Senior. 1 I have had nothing to 
eat since four o'clock yesterday, and now it is eleven.' 

After two hours more there seemed, for some rea- 
son or other, to be a slight lull, and then the Senior, 
feeling hungry, took advantage of it to get up. Only 
one could dress at a time in the cabin, the rolling being 
still considerable ; and before the Senior had finished 
his toilet, things were as bad as ever. So his Partners 
were constrained to lie down again with nothing in their 
teeth except the same Euroclydon as before. At last, 
of course, the end came. At all events, news arrived 
that Alicante was reached, and the anchor-chains began 
to uncoil themselves, groaning. Fasting and weary, the 
Cashier and the Junior emerged from their coffins, and 
began to wash themselves, staggering with weakness. 

1 It is well that we are travelling on business,' said 
the former. ' I should be sorry to think that I have been 
enjoying myself for the last twenty- four hours. I wonder 
whether we shall be alive when the steamer reaches 
Marseilles.' 

At this moment the Senior entered the cabin, and 
exclaimed, 1 Pack up all your things, gentlemen ; I don't 
care how much money I forfeit, but I will have no more 
of the Mediterranean. Pack up quick, and let's get on 
shore. We can't eat a morsel while we are here.' 

Perhaps the Senior should have recollected that he 
had had his coffee and roll, while his Partners had had 
nothing. But the prospect of release was too pleasant 
to be cavilled at, whatever conditions might be attached 
to it. So the packing began ; but it came to an end 



On the Mediterranean again. 221 

quickly, for soon the steamer was in motion again, and 
the rolling became even more violent than before. 

1 What can have happened ? 1 asked the unhappy 
travellers of each other. ' Is the skipper ashamed of 
having lost so much time at Cartagena, and is he 
starting for Valencia at once ? ' 

Really it seemed as if this were the case, and the 
Partners looked at each other aghast. Could they eat 
while they were in this horrible vessel ?— and if they 
could not eat, could they live ? High above all other 
sounds was heard the voice of the captain swearing 
on the poop. Had he gone mad ? Where was he 
going ? What was to be done ? Happily the steward, 
passing within hail just then, explained what had hap- 
pened. The captain could not take up the anchorage 
on which he had set his mind. So, regardless of the 
feelings of everybody except himself, he had stood out 
to sea again ; but the obstacle had been removed, and 
he was coming in now as fast as he could. 

' The land-lubber!' cried the Junior. 

Perhaps the abusive expression was hardly well chosen, 
for the skipper could stand the sea at all events, how- 
ever bad a seaman he might be in other respects. 

At length the members of the Firm found them- 
selves on land, and they naturally flattered them- 
selves that their troubles were over ; for some stout 
fellows had their baggage, and the fonda was in sight 
close by. Alas ! much evil was to come. The cara- 
bineers of the Aduana made their appearance, and the 
portmanteaux had to be examined. 



222 



Over Vokanoes. 



' Let's leave the keys/ said the Junior with a groan, 
for, what with hunger and knocking about, he was 
beaten. 

' What are you thinking of ? ' cried the Senior, who, 
it may be remembered, had breakfasted ; ' we must 
remain with our goods, and you must stay by us to 
interpret for us.' 

So, in the glare of the sun the Partners stood, looking 
so miserable, that the men of the Custom-house might 
have pitied them. But such men have no pity. So 
the carabineers smoked and chatted, and took their 
time, until the Junior thought that he should faint in 
the arms of Mr. Scott, who, to his great disgust, had 
not been sick, and who would, indeed, have been quite 
well but for his maniacal desire to expectorate. At last 
the officers did bestir themselves, the luggage passed 
muster, and the fonda was nearly reached. At this 
moment Mr. Scott, after a fit of vigorous hawking and 
much abortive spitting, took the Junior by the arm. 

' My good fellow/ said he, ' do me a favour/ 

' What's the matter ? ' said the Junior, eager to get 
something to eat. 

' The matter is this/ replied the Scotchman ; ' the hot 
water with mustard which you advised me to take last 
night has had no effect, nor has a draught of sea- 
water which I took this morning, nor the storm for 
which I prayed. Now, you can speak Spanish, and I 
can't ; so I want you, there's a good mon, to come with 
me into the toon. There maun be a chemist some- 



On the Mediterra7iean again. 223 

where, and if we find one, just get me a vomit, will 
you ? ' 

It is needless to add that at that moment the poor 
Junior required a very different sort of physic — 

O dura Scotorum ilia ! 



224 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XXXIIL 

ALICANTE AND NOSOTROS. 

It will be easily believed that a little rest was required 
after the troubles narrated in the preceding chapter. 
And happily, although there is much which may be seen 
at Alicante, there is nothing which is of primary im- 
portance, and therefore which must be seen. So, after 
strolling through the town, looking at the Alameda 
and the great tobacco factory, which is not nearly so 
grand as that at Seville, the members of the Firm 
retired to the Fonda del Vapor for the purpose of feeding 
and ruminating. Having done the former very much to 
their satisfaction— for the landlord was most attentive — 
the second process commenced, and the subject which 
suggested itself was the opinion which the Spaniards 
have of themselves. That this is an exalted opinion no 
one can help seeing who visits any part of Spain. The 
capa over the tight-fitting suit may be ragged, threadbare, 
brown with age and use ; but it is emphatically the garb 
of a gentleman, although worn by a beggar. Then every 
man walks as though he had been drilled, and rides like 
a trooper in a light cavalry regiment. Indeed, a farmer, 
with his long and gay manta strapped over the pommel 



Alicaiite and Nosotros. 



225 



of his saddle, and his gun by his side, looks every inch a 
soldier. And the peasant, too, gives one the same idea ; 
for he has a belt round his waist, and in the belt is a 
long stick. Moreover, you know that he has a knife 
which can be produced at a moment's notice, although it 
is not visible. Again, the language of Spain shows 
clearly that each Spaniard esteems himself highly. He 
is a caballero, a rider. He is also to be addressed as 
'your lordship.' Then what a grand affair is the outside 
of a letter intended to reach an Englishman travelling 
in the Peninsula, if his correspondents follow the instruc- 
tions given in the Red Book and the customs of the 
country. Our friend the Scotchman— who yearned for 
an emetic — is an upholsterer at Glasgow, and would 
scarcely allow himself to be called an esquire there. But 
at the Alicante Post-office he is ' El Senor Don Esteban 
Scott, Caballero Ingles.' 

The Junior Partner, however, ventures with great defe- 
rence to differ with the Red Book here, and to suggest that 
Don Esteban Scott would find it easier to get his letters 
if they were directed to Stephen Scott, which is the name 
on his passport ; to which document the officer at the 
Correo always refers before he hands to Mr. Scott the 
letter for which he is enquiring, and which he knows, by 
the paper outside, is in the office. But, in giving himself 
these titles, Mr. Scott is following the custom of a 
country in which every man honours himself, and where 
no one is clothed with humility, whatever other Christian 
virtues he may possess. But if this assumption is to be 
gathered from the bearing of the people, and the nature 

Q 



226 



Over Volcanoes. 



of their high-sounding language, it comes out still more 
forcibly in their literature. This, however, is often denied. 
And it is asserted, on the contrary, that, whereas the two 
books most popular in Spain are ' Don Quixote 'and 6 Gil 
Bias ;' and whereas both of these are in reality satires on 
nosotros and Spanish habits, the pride which has been 
attributed to the Castilian and his compatriots is not 
real, but only assumed to cover shame. In reference to 
this point, however, it should be recollected that Cer- 
vantes, when, in advanced years, he wrote 'Don Quixote,' 
had good reason to be dissatisfied with the treatment 
which he had received from his countrymen ; and little 
ground for expecting that he, the author of ' Rinconete y 
Cortadillo,' ' La ilustre Fregona,' &c, would ever have a 
noble statue at Madrid, and be honoured through the 
world as the creator of Sancho Panza, who, by the bye, 
is the real hero of the immortal work. That he then 
should have satirised, in the Don, those countrymen of 
his who had failed to perceive a talent of which the germ 
only had been exhibited up to that time, is natural 
enough ; and as for Le Sage, it must be recollected that 
he was a Frenchman. But if the older writers ventured 
to laugh at nosotros, the moderns must assuredly do 
nothing of the sort. Indeed, they who might have been 
expected to adopt the line of depreciation are foremost 
in the contrary direction. Take, for instance, Don 
Emilio Castelar. If he had been an English republi- 
can, he probably would have eulogised the United States 
and have held them up as a model to his countrymen. 
But the great orator of whom Cadiz is so proud does 
nothing of the sort, but maintains at all times that there 



Alicante and Nosotros. 



227 



is no country like Spain, nor any human beings so grand 
as the Spaniards. Let us hear what he says about that 
land, the rulers of which have condemned him to death 
before now, and are likely enough to sentence him to 
imprisonment or exile at any moment : — 

O my country ! [writes Castelar] you who gave me at first the 
light of my life, and who will guard my ashes in peace — for I 
cannot believe that God will condemn me, who love you so 
much, to die at a distance from . your fair bosom — you, who have 
produced and nourished all the souls whom I love — you, who 
have inspired my principles and my thoughts — you, the greatest, 
the most heroic of all nations — you, the Martyrs of History — 
you, who during six centuries spent your blood to save 
Europe from barbarism — you, who discovered, in the bosom 
of the ocean, a world as beautiful as your rich and unfathomable 
imagination — you, who planted thereon the tree of the Cross — 
you, who at Navas 1 freed the world from the scimitar of the 
Moors, and at Lepanto from the scimitar of the Turks — you, 
who conquered Charlemagne, the greatest soldier of the Middle 
Ages, and Francis the First, the hero of the Renaissance, 
and Napoleon, the great Emperor of the Revolution — you, C) 
my country ! raise yourself now, and say to those who calum- 
niate you — say to those who believe that you were born to 
slavery, say to them all that your liberty is as beautiful and as 
resplendent as your sun, that your history is one continual sacri- 
fice for the progressive emancipation of man, and that you would 
see your sons dead, and mourn over them as you have mourned 
them so often, from Saguntum to Zaragoza, rather than see 
them dragged along in the vile chains of slavery. 

This noble passage, which is taken from the i Formula 

1 Navas de Tolosa, near Vilches. At this place Alonso VIII. is said to 
have slaughtered 300, 000 Moors, commanded by Mohammed Ibn Abdallah, 
Emir of Morocco, who invaded Toledo in 1212. 



228 



Over Volcanoes. 



del Progreso , (p. 201), was repeated in the Parliament at 
Madrid last spring, and the great orator finished by 
asking, 'whether a country which had conquered the 
greatest conquerors of the age, which had triumphed at 
Roncesvalles, Pavia, and Baylen, was to be ruled by 
the hungry [hambrientos) Piedmontese, fit only to be the 
horse-boys of the great Spaniards ? ' 

Another extract from the same pamphlet is still more 
to the purpose, and is equally spirited. It is from p. 214: — 

At the end of this century all believed us to be effete and de- 
moralised. That man, before whom Europe bent the knee, 
wished to harness us to his triumphant chariot But the Spanish 
people, without kings, without a government, without an army, 
without a navy, reared itself up, and reared up at the same time 
its ancient liberties, showing to all the people in the world how 
they might learn from the example of Zaragoza and Gerona to 
strive against tyrants. So Napoleon, when he saw France in- 
vaded by a stranger, excited his soldiers to defend their country's 
hearth as the indomitable and heroic Spaniards had defended 
theirs against him. So Greece, in her War of Independence, 
when she roused herself on her mountains and in her plains to 
fight against her enslavers, neither recalled to her mind her 
Thermopylae nor her Leonidas, but she recollected the heroism 
of Spain — and all her sons, in every fight, pronounced our 
name — a name always sacred to men who struggle for their 
country. So the Russians, amidst the havoc of war, the fire, 
and the death, fighting desperately, despairingly, under the 
walls of Sebastopol, joined with the glorious name of Moscow 
the name of Zaragoza, the most glorious of alL 

6 1 traverse your quotations/ said the Senior. i They 
are the flattering words of a demagogue/ 

' And if that be so,' added the Cashier, 1 they prove 



Alicante and Nosotros. 



229 



the exact opposite to that case which the Junior is trying 
to establish/ 

' How so ?' asked the Junior. 

' Because/ replied the Cashier, ' any able flatterer 
(and no one who looks at the face of Castelar can doubt 
his ability) selects those very points for his praise on 
which the subject of the adulation feels himself most 
weak. I will prove this by an example. You know 
our great Crockshire nobleman, the Earl of Lightmouth, 
and you know also how anxious our neighbour little 
Tiss was to obtain a footing at the Sandhills. Well, he 
let Lightmouth know that he, Tiss, thought him, Light- 
mouth, a good fellow ; but that availed him nothing, for 
everyone, including Lightmouth, knows that. He told 
him next that he was a famous landlord, and, for the 
same reason, this did not advance his object. But then 
Tiss suggested one day that Lightmouth had ridden 
famously with the Crockshire hounds, and this answered ; 
for until that well-selected oil of flapdoodle had been 
instilled into his lordship's willing ears, the Earl of 
Lightmouth had almost fancied that he was in the habit 
of riding the lanes more than a sportsman should, and 
also that he embraced his horse's neck, when some 
inevitable fence fronted him. So I say, if this talk of 
Castelar, which we have heard, is flattery at all, it shows 
that the Spaniards have really a mean opinion of them- 
selves/ 

i 1 don't rest my case on the quotation, then,' said the 
Junior, ' but on the gait, the dress, and the language of 
the people.' 



Over Volcanoes. 



'And that evidence/ said the Senior, 'will carry a 
verdict. So let us drop the discussion, and tell me, did it 
not strike you as rather odd that no mention was made 
by Castelar of our performances in the Peninsula ? One 
used to think that the English had something to do 
with driving the French out of Spain ; and that if all 
Europe on the Continent bent the knee to Napoleon L, 
we did not/ 

1 1 could have read you a passage from the same 
book/ said the Junior, ' which is still more curious ; for 
the wonders of the nineteenth century are set forth — the 
railway, the telegraph, and so on — but still the credit is 
apparently given to Spain/ 

6 Your remarks suggest another question/ said the 
Cashier, ' which is this : what do the Spaniards and 
foreigners generally think of us English ?' 

* I mean to discuss that in the next chapter/ said the 
Junior. i But we have rested ourselves now, and must 
do our duty to Alicante as sightseers. So let us go to 
the Castle of Santa Barbara. We shall have a fine view 
over the country from that old fortress/ 

' Nonsense ! ' said the Senior. ' I can't climb hills. 

Isn't there a picture-gallery here V 

' Copies all/ said the Cashier, ' according to Murray/ 
i Well, I like good copies in my own house/ said the 

Senior ; 6 but I would not go far to see them in another 

person's rooms. So I won't call upon the Marquis del 

Angolfa/ 

* What do you say, gentlemen, to visiting the Huerta ?' 
said the Junior. 



A licante and A T osotros. 



231 



c What's that ? ' enquired the other Partners. 

'A garden/ replied the Junior, 'where the flowers 
are always blooming. ' 

'Pooh, pooh!' cried the Senior; 'one can see that 
sort of thing anywhere. Let's have a stroll by the 
shore. How pretty the roadstead must have looked 
when the queen arrived from Italy ! ' 

' God bless her ! ' said the Cashier. 1 What with the 
proud grandees of Spain on one hand, and the re- 
publicans on the other, she will have bad usage, I fear. 
But a pretty woman, who carries her baby about in her 
arms, and gives herself no airs, must conquer love at 
last. And her husband, too, is taking the proper course 
to make himself respected. He has a right to remind 
the Spaniards that he did not intrigue for their crown, 
and is in Spain at their request.' 

' And if I were he,' said the Junior, ' I should add this 
— that, as soon as I was rejected by constitutional means, 
I was ready to resign the huge palace at Madrid, and to 
live in Granada as a republican or a subject ; but 
that whilst I was King of Spain, I would neither practise 
violence nor tolerate it. I would neither conspire my- 
self, nor suffer any conspiracies to exist ; and that, if I 
was a hungry Piedmontese, I hungered for nothing 
except the honour of bringing to the front rank of the 
nations Espana muy noble, y mny hermosa! 



232 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

WHAT THE SPANIARDS THINK OF THE ENGLISH. 

A FEW months ago Sir Triple Bob Minimus announced 
in the House of Commons that, ever since the days of 
Lord Palmerston, the character of England had de- 
clined. It is possible that the right hon. baronet may 
have been led to form this opinion by the extraordinary 
favour which he received from that distinguished states- 
man ; but there is no doubt that many people are not 
only with him on this point, but go far beyond him. 
And, in truth, our exploits in the Crimea were not par- 
ticularly brilliant, and only elderly personages make 
pilgrimages to Salamanca and Vittoria for the sake of 
studying the really great victories which were achieved 
at those places long, long ago. But if we are not admired 
quite so much as we once were, it is certain that the 
latent force which England is known to possess, and 
the credit which enables her to borrow any amount of 
money at three and a-half per cent., cause us to be 
respected still. It is quite another question whether we 
are loved on the Continent as much as we were once. 
And since our character in this respect must depend 
mainly on those who travel abroad, and since the quality 
of the article thus exported has certainly fallen off of late 



What the Spaniards think of the English. 233 



years, while the quantity, on the other hand, has largely 
increased, it is reasonable to suppose that a deterioration 
has resulted. Certainly some of our countrymen do act 
very nastily when out of England, forgetting apparently 
that they are bound, if they travel at all, to be on their 
best behaviour, since they are for the time regarded 
as representative men. There was a little whipper- 
snapper of an Englishman at Seville, who made the 
writer very angry. In the Casa de Huespedes of the 
Fonda de Paris, w r here we resided, lived also during 
the fair the Minister of the United States, accredited 
to the Court of Madrid. Through the ftatio, where 
the orange-trees stood, the gallant General of course 
passed frequently ; and upon one occasion, as he did 
so, the weedy Britisher before mentioned, who had been 
talking to the Junior Partner, said audibly, ' Confound 
all Yankees ! ' The General looked six feet high before, 
but, although he hobbled on crutches, having left his 
right leg on the great battle-field of Chancellorville, 
he looked, after he had received the insult, at least 
two inches higher. And, scowling, he passed out of 
sight. 

1 It is to be hoped,' said the Senior, when he heard 
this, i that the Minister set down his ill-bred assailant as 
a malignant Southerner; for if he did know the snob to 
be an Englishman, he must, at least for the moment, 
have felt rather unkindly towards his cousins of Europe/ 

( And did you, Mr. Junior, take any steps,' said the 
Cashier, ' to dissociate yourself from the man and his 
most unjustifiable insult ? ' 



♦ 



234 



Over Volcanoes. 



1 1 did my best to put my country right/ replied the 
Junior, ' and to neutralise the mischief. Of course I 
could not take notice of what had occurred, which would 
have made matters worse ; but I sent a few lines to 
General Sickles, which reached him, I hope, and which 
certainly were calculated to please him/ 

' You oiled him, in fact/ said the Senior. ' I would 
not have done that. The Ambassador will suppose that 
we wanted to make his acquaintance, and perhaps to be 
invited to his parties at Madrid, when he returns to his 
embassy/ 

* I took great care to prevent him from entertaining 
either of these suppositions/ replied the Junior ; ' for I 
did not send the letter to him until we were on the point 
of leaving Seville, and I let him know that we were 
going straight home by Marseilles. So he could not 
think that I wanted anything from him/ 

' No harm has been done then/ said the Senior ; ' and 
let us hope that the angry contempt which General 
Sickles must have felt at the time has been a little 
softened ; but many sweet words would be required to 
wipe out the recollection of such a silly insult. How- 
ever, it was worth while to make the attempt to mollify 
the General, for the future prosperity of the world hinges 
on the cordial union of Great Britain and the States/ 

' But/ said the Cashier, 1 bad as your little wretch 
was, that burly Britisher whom we met at Granada, and 
christened Sponge, was worse.' 

' So he was/ said the Senior. 1 That man never ought 
to have been allowed to go out of England. Fancy his 



What the Spaniards think of the English. 235 



insolence in suggesting to me — to me ! the head of the 
great house of Stevens & Co. — that I might pass the 
bad Isabellino which the waiter palmed on us at the 
" Washington Irving." That I might do it if I looked 
sharp, and passed it in the dark ! Really, that was the 
greatest insult ever offered to me during my life. As if 
I, who would not be guilty of a dirty or dishonest action 
for any money, was likely to do such a thing as that 
for a guinea.' 

'But retributive justice soon fell on him/ said the 
Junior, 'for he left his luggage behind him at Granada.' 

'Yes,' replied the Senior; 'and then he must needs 
blame Jose Serfaty, who at that time was our servant, 
and not his, because he, Sponge, had been careless. And 
how angry poor Jose was ! — more angry than when he 
drew the lottery-ticket which was next to the winning 
number, but a blank.' 

' Certainly/ added the Cashier. ' Poor Sponge was a 
bad specimen of a Britisher. He had not been above 
ten days in Spain, and I'll be bound that he made ten 
times as manv enemies for England. 1 

' Only ten days in Spain !' cried the Senior. 4 How do 
you make that out ? We saw him at Malaga, and at 
Granada too.' 

'Well,' said the Cashier; ' Sponge came in a steamer 
to Gibraltar, and he was not really in Spain at all till 
he reached Malaga. He will return by the same route, 
and will be in Spain about ten days at the outside.' 

' 1 wonder why such a man came at all/ said the 
Senior. 1 He does not appear to be in any business.' 



236 



Over Volcanoes. 



1 Probably not/ said the Cashier ; 1 he looked to me 
like one of those unfortunate fellows for whom some 
illiterate, miserly old father has scraped together 500/. 
a-year or so, under the impression that such a sum as 
that must make a gentleman out of an ignorant, mean, 
narrow r -minded ass, if only he does not go into busi- 
ness.' 

' Which being the case/ said the Junior, 1 his object 
in journeying to Spain is clear enough. Of course he 
has plenty of acquaintances, whom he calls friends, and 
all of these he delights to take down a peg. And 
now, when he gets back to England, he will have a fine 
chance of doing this. For Brown, one of his friends, 
will have gone perhaps to Cologne, with the same ami- 
able object of crowing over those who have not been 
there. Then some day Brown will say, " The Cathedral 
at Cologne is a magnificent thing ; Sponge, you should 
see Cologne." To which Sponge will reply, " Have you 
been to Spain, Brown ? eh ! eh ! No, sir, you have not ? 
Well, then, no one should talk of cathedrals who has not 
been to Spain. When I was in Spain," &c. &c. So 
Brown will be silenced until it occurs to him that he can 
see a bit of Spain almost as easily as a bit of the Rhine 
provinces, after which he will follow in the footsteps of 
Sponge, and will leave the same odour of vulgarity 
behind him, to the disgust of all foreigners/ 

'The mischief,' said the Senior, 'which such men do 
is too obvious for argument. But the question is, how 
can it be prevented ? 1 

' Why not put an export duty on the Sponges and the 



W licit the Spaniards think of the English. 237 

Browns ? ' said the Cashier. ' Let each be examined at 
the Custom-house, and charged ad valorem. I'll give 
you a specimen of the sort of questions which ought to 
be made : — 

'Examiner. "You propose, sir, to travel in Spain?" 

' Mr. Sponge. " I believe you, my boy ; eh ! eh ! " 

'Examiner. " Should you meet a procession of the 
Host at Burgos, or elsewhere, w r hat would you think it 
right to do ? " 

* Mr. Sponge. " I'm a Protestant, sir ; d — n them ! and 
Td let them know what I am ; eh ! eh ! " 

' Examiner. " Should you meet a citizen of the United 
States, what will be the subject of your conversation 
with him ? " 

' Mr. Sponge. " Bull Run, repudiation, Andrew John- 
son. Of course I should touch up the Yankees on their 
sores." 

' Examiner. " And with a Frenchman, what topics ? " 
'Mr. Sponge. " Waterloo, of course ; Sedan, no doubt, 
Perhaps I might offer to buy Algiers." 

* Examiner. " With a Spaniard, what ? " 
' Mr. Sponge. " Gibraltar." 

' Examiner. " How much money have you, sir ? " 

'Mr. Sponge. "Fifteen sovereigns, first-rate coins ; and 
ten more, quite good enough to pass in the dark. All 
foreigners are so easily taken in, you know ; eh ! eh ! " 

' Examiner. " Hand over to me every penny, sir — it's 
all forfeited to the Crown — and go home at once. Learn 
manners ; learn honesty ; and do not suppose I will let 
you leave England so long as it is clear that you will 



2 3 8 



Over Volcanoes. 



bring disgrace on the country which, since you were 
born in it, must put up with you." ' 

1 The only objection which I can see to your excellent 
plan/ said the Senior, ' is that it will countenance the 
examination of adults, which I hate.' 

■ Well, then, I'll propose an alternative/ said the 
Cashier. ' We will induce Sir Triple Bob Minimus to 
introduce an Act obliging everyone who goes abroad to 
take with him the book called " Over Volcanoes," and to 
engage to observe the rules of conduct therein men- 
tioned.' 

'Bravo!' cried the Senior. 'I should like to see 
Sponge's face while he is reading our book.' 

' And his figure too/ added the junior ; 1 that conical 
Tyrolean hat, that pipe in his mouth, and that short 
jacket, showing off the Dutch build of his stern ; those 
knowing winks, and that Eh ! eh ! eh ! All these 
make up a picture not to be forgotten. I wish that I 
could draw him just as he sat when he was writing his 
letter to the " Times " about his portmanteau, in the 
coffee-room of the Fonda de Alameda, at Malaga.' 

' What an amusing letter that must have been ! Of 
course it never appeared ? ' 

'But,' said the Cashier, ' if Mr. Junior prints all this 
about Sponge, will not our book be too personal ? 
Sponge will recognise himself, and be hurt' 

' No,' said the Junior, 1 Sponge will not be hurt at all. 
I'll tell you what he will say : — " I remember Stevens & 
Co. at Malaga very well ; only tradesmen, you know ; 
not gentlemen, of course. They drew the long bow, 



What the Spaniards think of the English, 239 

too ; for I will swear that there was no Englishman 
except myself with them at the Fonda de Alameda ; 
and no one could suppose that I am Sponge. They 
were uncommon civil to me, and so they ought to have 
been ; for I got an Isabellino back for them, out of 
which a roguish waiter at Granada had cheated them. 
One of the silly fellows sat down at the station and 
wrote a letter in Spanish to the master of the Washing- 
ton Irving Hotel (as if that was likely to do any good), 
and I dare say he thinks it was he who did the trick. 
But I fancy that the money would have been lost if I 
had not given the people a bit of my mind in English, 
and told them that perhaps they did not know who I was 
— eh ! eh ! A capital plan that. If you do that, and post 
a letter occasionally to the ' Times ' or Murray, letting 
everybody see the direction, you may live for next to 
nothing in any foreign hotel — eh ! eh ! eh ! " 5 

1 Ay, 1 said the Senior, 'these are the fellows who have 
lowered the character of England. But on this you 
may depend, that no nation in the world will pick a 
quarrel with us if we are honest and civil, however 
great may be their contempt for the Browns and the 
Sponges who export themselves to our loss.' 



240 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

VALENCIA ; AND A CONTRIBUTION BY THE 
SENIOR PARTNER. 

Any place which, during the last few years, has stood 
a siege, and has been pelted with shot and shell, must 
possess an interest — especially for those w r ho, happily, 
in their own country have no lions of that sort to show. 
So the travellers entered Valencia with a feeling of 
considerable curiosity. For that city, having cordially 
assisted Prim in his revolt against Isabella, rose with 
equal willingness against him when he declared himself 
a monarchist. But the Marquis de Castillejo proved 
himself to be a man of a different stamp to that of 
Father Clarete, Marfori, and Don Francesco. For 
his lieutenant had orders to hold Valencia tightly in 
hand, from the outside, while Prim increased the force 
engaged in the attack from 5,000 to 30,000, and so 
forced a surrender after eleven days. During all that 
time shot and shell rained in. The Cathedral was 
struck more than once, and the great bell fractured. 
But the damage done to the city was not nearly so 
considerable as might have been expected. It was, in 
fact, nothing to the damage which we witnessed, a 
little while afterwards, at Strasburg and Thionville. 



Valencia. 



241 



But Valencia, in spite of its valorous name, identical 
with Roma — that is, force — and in spite of its readi- 
ness to begin a brawl, has never shown much endurance 
in fighting one out ; and was not likely to resist the 
superior artillery which Prim brought to bear upon 
it Nor could the traveller quarrel with the city on 
this account ; for it possesses buildings which could 
ill be spared, and curiosities which, as the Red Book 
says, ' ought not to be buried here in a napkin.' Fore= 
most amongst these latter is that sacred image of the 
Virgin which was once appointed, with all formalities, 
Captain-General of Valencia, as La Santa Teresa of 
Avila was named Generalissimo by the Cortes of Cadiz. 
From these two nominations the downfall of Romanism 
in the Peninsula dates. For neither of the two images 
showed the least aptitude as strategists, when compared 
with Wellington, who was no saint ; and a country is 
always inclined to throw blame on generals habitually 
unsuccessful. 

The Junior had written thus much in early morning, 
which was his only time for composition, when the 
Senior came into his room, nightcap on head. 

* I'm glad to see you at work/ said he, ' on the book ; 
for, to tell you the truth, I feel rather nervous with 
respect to it. Let's see what you have been writing 
about Valencia.' 

The MS. was shown accordingly to the Head of the 
Firm. 

1 Ah ! very true,' said he, 1 no doubt ; but I'll be bound 
that Mr. Murray has printed the same before, and a 

R 



242 



Over Volcanoes. 



ZARAGOZA A MADRID. 
Servicio desde 25 de Marzo de 1 87 1. 



■J} 















Trex 


OORREO 


u 


Precios. 






41 


47 


todas cl. 


V 

a 








ESTACIONES. 


MIXTO. 1 


MIXTO. 


MIXTO. 

Todas 


a Calata. 


NO 










Todas 


Todas 


i a y2 a 
despues. 


5 


i a cl. 


2 3 cl. 


3 cl. 




clases. 


clases. 


clases. 




JX6. Cb. 


Rs. cs. 


Rs. cs. 




M. | 


M. 


T. 


N. 


... 






... 


Zaragoza . 


6 50, 


... 




9 15 


14 


6 2; 


5 


3 


Casetas . 


7 30 


... 




9 43 


27 


12 O 


9 25 


5 75 


Grisen . . 


7 57^ 


... 




10 3 


j5 




12 


7 5° 


Plasencia . . 


I l1 \ 


... 




10 18 


42 


18 50 


14 50 


9 


Rueda 


8 32 


... 




10 30 


46 




i5 75 


9 75 


Epila . 


8 47 


... 




10 39 


5o 


22 O 


17 25 


10 50 


Salillas . . 


9 


... 




10 48 


56 


?/1 *7 C 


19 25 


11 75 


Calatorao . 


9 15 


... 




11 


61 


^ / \j 


21 12 75 


Ricla . . . 


9 3i 


... 




11 13 


69 


10 cn 


23 75 H 5° 


Morata . 


9 5i 


... 




11 28 


73 


IA CD 


26 75 16 50 


Mores . 


10 14 


... 




11 42 


84 


0/ u 


28 75 17 75 


Paracuellos . 


10 32 






11 52 


97 


/l 2 7C 




20 50 


Calatayud 


11 17; 


... 




12 20 


103 




35 25 


21 75 


Terrer . 


11 33 


... 




12 31 


no 


a8 CO 


37 75 23 


Ateca . 


11 52 


... 


m 
O 


12' 42 


118 


52 


40 25 24 75 


Bubierca . 


I 2 9; 


... 


tjQ 

5 


12 55 


123 


■?4 2c 


42 025 


Alliama . 


12 27! 


... 


S S > 


1 6 


128 


c6 CD 


43 75!26 75 


Cetina . 


12 4i; 


... 


CD O X! 
£ — m 


1 16 


136 


60 


46 5028 50 


Ariza . . . 


1 4 


... 


3 0^ 


1 3i 


159 


70 


54 25I33 25 


Arcos . 


1 56; 


... 




2 10 


175 


77 


60 0,36 75 


Medidaceli . 


2 42j 


... 


2 39 


196 


86 25 


67 041 


Alcuneza . . 


3 4i 


... 




3 19 


202 


89 


69 042 25 


Sigiienza . 


4 8: 


... 


in 


3 37 


218 


96 


74 5o;45 75 


Baides 


4 48j 


... 




4 8 


226 


99 So 


77 25I47 75 


Matillas . . 


5 10 


... 




4 22 


237 


104 5° 


81 0149 75 


Jadraque . . 


5 38| 


... 




4 42 


250 


no 


85 25 52 25 


Espinosa . . 


* 6 i 


... 




5 3 


263 


ii5 75 


89 75 55 


Humanes . 


6 33 


... 


... 


5 21 


10 


120 25 


93 25|57 25 


Yunquera 


6 57) 






5 4i 


276 


121 44 


94 1 


57 68 


Fontanar . 


7 9 


M. 




5 50 


285 


125 50 


97 25*59 75 


Guadalajara . 


7 54; 


7 40 


5 10 


6 9 


296 


130 25 101 o;62 


Azuqueca 


8 16: 


8 02 


5 32 


6 28 


308 


135 75 


105 25 


64 50 


Alcala . 


8 4 6| 


8 33 


6 4 


6 50 


318 


140 


108 50:66 50 


Torrejon . 


9 9 


8 55 


6 25 


7 9 


323 


142 25 no 25 


67 50 


San Fernando 


9 21 


9 08 


6 38 
6 56 


7 19 


330 


145 25 


112 75:69 


Vicalvaro 


9 38 


9 25 


7 35 


334 


147 


114 070 


Vallecas . 


9 49' 


9 38 


7 40 


7 46 


34i 


150 25 


116 5071 50 


Madrid . . :io 4 
1 N. 1 


9 55 


7 25 


8 



great deal more, in a better style. What we have to do 
is to ask ourselves what information we required before 



Valencia, 



243 



we left home which we could not find anywhere. 
Having discovered what this was, that information, and 
that only, ought we to publish. I propose, therefore, 
that you cut out now and paste on to a sheet the time- 
table of the railway from Zaragoza to Madrid, for 
instance, just as a specimen.' 

The Junior did so accordingly, and the Senior in- 
spected it. 

'"M., M.,'" said he, looking at the headings ; ' that "M." 
means morning, no doubt ?' 

' Manana? replied the Junior ; ' yes, morning/ 

' Then what's " T." ?' asked the Senior. 

' That stands,' replied the Junior, ' for tarde! 

'Oh, a slow train, I suppose,' said the Senior. 'All 
might be marked tardy, I think. But everything goes 
by comparison, no doubt' 

i Tarde means afternoon,' said the Junior, laughing. 

'Are you sure?' said the Senior. ( "N." comes after, 
you see. What does that mean, then ? It must be 
noon, I'm certain.' 

'But,' said the Junior; 'noon is not a Spanish word; 
"N." stands for noche\ so you have morning, afternoon, 
and night.' 

' A great improvement on Bradshaw,' cried the Senior. 
' His " A.M." and " P.M." are very puzzling. Now, how 
much is a kil. ?' continued the Senior. 

' 1,093 yards 2 inches,' replied the Junior. 

' Now we'll have an hotel bill,' said the Senior, ' but 
without the names, either of the place or host. For the 
hotel people, on the whole, have used us extremely well, 

R 2 



244 



Over Volcanoes. 



and I should be sorry for any one ot them to think that 
we had gibbeted him/ 

Accordingly the Junior selected the following bill, 
which, except the heading, is exact : — 

FONDA FOLLOL. 

Sr. Don Stevens debe 

a Fulano Hermanos. 



Abril 12 al 19, inclusivos : Rs. 

Por 8 dias a 240 1920 

3 comidas de convite ..... 60 

2 bot. de vino ....... 20 

I almuerzo de convite . . . . . 14 

I bot. de Amontillado 30 

Servicio y luz . . . . . . . 7 2 



Revn. 21 16 

1 Very good/ said the Senior, inspecting the bill, ' but 
I can't understand a word of it. So pray translate it 
for the benefit of the public/ 

Accordingly the Junior did so, thus 

HOTEL FOLLOL. 

The gentleman Don Stevens owes to 

So-and-So Brothers. 



April 1 2th to the 19th inclusive. Rs. 

8 days at 240 per day ..... 1920 

3 extra dinners ....... 60 

2 bottles of wine extra 20 

I lunch extra ....... 14 

1 bottle of Amontillado extra . . . 30 

Service and lights 72 



2116 

' It seems a monstrous large bill, although it is so 
short ; but when people count by twopence halfpenny 
the figures do swell amazingly.* 



Valencia. 245 

1 Shall I put the sum total into pounds English ? ' 
asked the Junior. 

'No,' replied the Senior, ' anyone can do that who 
knows what a real is ; but now let's have an extract 
from some of their writings. This sort of thing will 
give strangers a good idea of the country.' 

* Very well/ replied the Junior, ' and the first shall be 
in the patois of Valencia. It is taken from " King 
Herod," commonly called the Cut-throat, one of the 
three mysteries acted here on Corpus Christi Day, which 
is a grand festival at Valencia. The Alguacil is ad- 
dressing Herod. 

Alg. Senyor, ya esta* asi la gent, 

Mares, dides y els infants. 
Her odes. Ola ! vosaltres Sarjants, 

En veure as! la gran colla. 

Fareume prest la degolla 

De tots aquestos infants. 

Sargants. Aparellats estarem, 

Per lo que serem manats, 
Puix que asi ens vem juntats, 
Pareguen, y obeirem.' 

' I must ask you to translate again/ cried the Senior, 
' for if I don't know Spanish I am not likely to be able 
to understand Valencian/ 

So the Junior translated accordingly. 

1 Alg. Sire, here are the people, 

Men, women, and children. 
Herod, Hollo, hollo, you officers, 

You see a grand neck here. 

I 



246 Over Volcanoes. 

At once perform the beheading 
Of all these children. 

Sargants. We stand here ready 

For that which we are commanded, 

For on this account are we here together, 

To appear and to obey. 

' The other mysteries then performed are " St. Cris- 
tofe " and "Adam," but there is nothing particular in 
them. 

4 And now/ added he, ' a few things more, and my 
contribution will be complete. You must say, then — 

' 1st. That the country between here and Alicante is 
the most fertile in the world, being irrigated by the Rio 
Jucar, and many other smaller streams. That it grows 
rice, oranges, figs, mulberries, palms, and Talavera wheat 
in perfection. That the barley was carried when we 
travelled through the valley on May 3 ; and that the 
wooden ploughs were working three inches deep in 
water, preparing the land for the succeeding crop of 
maize. 

' 2nd. That the old houses here in Valencia are 
splendid ; above all, one near the Villa de Madrid 
Fonda, which is cased with marble from top to bottom, 
and has some fine sculpture on it, especially the human 
figures over one of the doorways. 

'3rd, That "el mismo," after a man's name, on the 
post-office tables, means do. do., and that the letter so 
described is his property. 

'4th. That the old Moorish Granary, by the Troglo- 
dyte village, is enormously large and massive, 



Valencia. 



247 



'5th. That the silkworm farm, near the same place, 
is very curious. 

' 6th. That we have not heard, and shall not hear, I 
suppose, the Miserere, which " Murray " tells us not to 
miss by any means.' 

1 Yes/ said the Junior, ' I believe that service in the 
Colegio del Patriarca is very fine indeed. What a satis- 
faction it will be to our friends when they find that we 
missed it ! We will allow them that gratification, by all 
means. Indeed, we cannot help ourselves, for it is only 
performed on Friday ; and when next Friday comes, we 
shall not be here.' 

1 Now,' said the Senior, resuming his nightcap, which 
he had removed from his head, ' I have arranged for one 
really useful and businesslike chapter, and I feel eased 
in my mind. So I'll return to bed now, and you need 
not call me till nine.' 

Having said this, the Senior departed, and the Junior 
went on with his work. He was a mean-spirited fellow, 
no doubt, to endure such cavalier treatment ; but what 
will a young man not bear from the father when he 
wishes to marry the daughter ? After marriage, espe- 
cially if the settlements are satisfactory and there are no 
great expectations, the state of affairs is altered. 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

TARRAGONA. 

The country between Valencia and Tarragona looks 
very similar to that which lies on the other side of the 
valorous city. A broad, irrigated, and, therefore, very 
fertile plain, is covered with orange-trees, pomegranates, 
mulberries, figs, and grapes, all in succession, and all 
very well and carefully cultivated. Indeed, the whole 
tract- seems to be one great garden, producing almost 
every sort of crop which man requires for his use. So 
the port of Valencia, which is tw r o miles from the city, 
must be a busy one. 

It was with great regret that the travellers left the 
Villa de Madrid, having risen at four in the morning to 
catch the earliest and best train. For that fonda y al- 
though it ranks second to the Hotel de Paris, is a very 
comfortable one ; and the whole of Valencia, with its 
gardens, its old gateways, and picturesque Cathedral, 
is eminently attractive. But Tarragona soon consoled 
them, for it is scarcely possible to imagine a more 
pleasant spot. Sharply from the shores of the Mediter- 
ranean the ground rises, and you may find your way to 
the Cathedral and the high tow T n, either straight up, 
through rows of shops, or by winding drives, which, 



Tarragona. 



249 



skirting the fortifications, come directly upon the Ram- 
bla, by the bastion Carlos Quinto. At the Fonda Europa, 
in the Rambla, Stevens & Co. found themselves at home ; 
and so delighted was the Senior with everything, that he 
delivered himself as follows : — 

'I liked Valencia much; and Tortosa, judging from 
the glimpse which we had of it, must be very well worth 
studying ; but, of all towns in Spain, give me Tarra- 
gona. If I remember right, Mr. Junior, some of us 
have written a good deal of trash in favour of Granada ; 
but Granada cannot compare with Tarragona. It is 
true that you have snowy mountains at the former 
place, and snow so far south is curious, but they are 
mere hills in outline ; and then there is no sea. Now, I 
am an Englishman, and I love the sea, that is, I love 
the sight of it. As to being on it, that is a different 
affair. But here you have the sea, and in perfection too ; 
the sea, looked at from hills, as it always should be, if 
you are to view it to perfection. And then, what a 
number of sights there are here ! The Cathedral, for in- 
stance, not the finest in Spain, of course, but very in- 
teresting. Norman arches ! Who could have expected 
to see that sort of work in Spain ? And that grand 
flight of steps leading out of the market-place up to the 
west front ; how greatly does their length add to the 
general effect ! And how fortunate we have been in 
seeing that beautiful Flemish tapestry, which is only ex- 
hibited on special occasions ! I wish that Tarragona 
was as accessible as Rhyl ; how our friends at Ironham 
would flock to it !' 



250 Over Volcanoes. 

'And spoil everything/ cried the Cashier ; ' at least, all 
that could be spoiled, if they introduced their English 
customs. How pleasant and rational it is to have our 
coffee and roll the first thing in the morning, quietly by 
ourselves, and then at eleven o'clock or twelve to enjoy 
an early dinner at a table (Fhote, with another dinner in 
prospect at seven, and a cup of coffee between the two 
if we like. I don't mean to say that this sort of life 
would suit a man of business at Ironham, but it cer- 
tainly is very agreeable when you are out for a holiday, 
and, therefore, only wish to be amused. And what a 
sad contrast is that sort of life which one leads at Rhyl, 
or any other watering-place in England or Wales ! A 
lodging-house in Sea View Terrace, what can be more 
sad ? Dreary rickety furniture, intolerably shabby but 
very pretentious, dinners an hour after the time fixed, 
and then only half cooked, no society of any sort, and 
a Cat which eats every tit-bit, or, at all events, acts as the 
scapegoat of those who do. Of course, you may go to 
an hotel, if you like to pay five times as much as it is 
worth for everything you eat, or drink, or touch. What 
a blessing it would be if some one succeeded in reform- 
ing our whole system of recreation in England ! ' 

' Yes,' said the Junior, ' compare the band at any 
English watering-place with that at Ostend or Boulogne, 
or any town abroad. The former is a positive pest, the 
latter a real delight. In one thing, however, we do 
beat all nations, and that is in the low price of hired 
donkeys.' 

' The article ass is so plentiful with us/ said the 



Tarragona. 251 

Senior ; 1 but what miserable animals they are com- 
pared with those w T hich we see here. And what a mag- 
nificent mule that was which drew us in our tartana 
round the town to-day. But I confess that I like four- 
wheeled machines better than two ; and I like also to 
hear our Junior on the box, chattering with the driver, 
although I don't understand a word of the conversation/ 

' We must have another turn through the streets pre- 
sently,' said the Cashier ; 6 I want to have a look once 
more at the cloisters, although I can't say that I care 
for the cat and rat funeral which is sculptured there. But 
it shows how elaborately everything has been done. The 
windows are the finest things about the Cathedral/ said 
the Cashier, ' to my mind. I never knew T what painted 
glass could do for a building till I came to Spain.' 

' Nor did I believe,' said the Senior, 1 until I read the 
history of this same country, that St. Magin, who died 
a martyr when Rome was pagan, could be made Captain- 
General of Catalonia in the nineteenth century.' 

* How foolish,' said the Cashier, ' the priests were to 
allow Saints Thecla, and Magin, and Teresa of Avila, 
&c, to be put in such perilous positions. No one except 
an Elijah can afford to stake the existence of his religion 
on a miracle.' 

' If I were a Romanist,' said the Junior, ' 1 should 
advise the Church to do something of this sort. I should 
say to the Pope and to the cardinals, we, according to 
our account, are the only true Church ; we alone have 
the real Apostolic Succession, and an Infallible Head. 
Which being the case, we are bound to show what 



2 5 2 



Over Volcanoes. 



Christianity can do for the visible regeneration of man- 
kind. Let us then prove every other Church to be 
wrong, by becoming each one of us just what a Christian 
man should be. Let us get rid of all malice, hatred, 
ambition, hypocrisy, and dishonesty of every sort. Let 
us all live simple, holy, unselfish, loving lives, and then 
people will believe in us and our Church.' 

' According to their own account, this is the character 
of the Romanists now,' said the Cashier, 1 and has been 
their character ever since the episcopacy of Peter.' 

' What, at Rome ?' said the Junior, 'or here in Spain ? 
The Generals Mina and Nogueras were good Catholics, 
I believe, but, nevertheless, in this place, that is at the 
Barbacana, they shot the old mother of General Cabrera 
in cold blood, because her son had defeated them. That 
was not a mark of the true religion. No, the time never 
has been when the Romish Church could afford to appeal 
to herself as a standing miracle of goodness.' 

' And it never will come,' said the Senior ; ' but I fear 
that no Church could stand that severe test' 

1 Then the sooner some one Church (I won't say 
which) does make this appeal, and successfully,' said the 
Junior, 'the better will it be for the world. For such a 
Church, and such a Church only, will live through that 
terrible tempest which is coming — that hurricane of un- 
belief, for which the Jesuits and the Ritualists, birds of 
the same feather, are whistling in their folly.' 

1 It will be time enough to talk of these things,' said the 
Cashier, ' when we get back to our " Rocks " and " Guar- 
dians," our Church Unions and Church Associations, our 



253 



Synods, Conventions and Conferences, &c. Now let us 
have another look at the glorious round window in 
which that gallant Norman Robert Burdet had a hand, 
and the church which St. Paul himself built — that little 
building where the simple service of the May season 
was going on last evening — and then we will stroll down 
to the shore once more/ 

' No,' said the Junior ; 1 let's keep the shore till even- 
ing. The effect of the moon last night on the waters of 
the Mediterranean, and the old ramparts, and the trees, 
was exquisitely beautiful.' 

' But, remember,' said the Senior, c that we must get 
up to-morrow at 4.30 to start for Barcelona. What a 
wonderful place this Spain is for the promotion of early 
rising ! I believe that our Junior is dressed by two 
o'clock regularly every morning.' 

1 Say three/ said the Junior, ' and you will not be far 
wrong. The mornings are superb/ 



2 54 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

EL CONDE DE REUS, AND THE STATE OF SPAIN. 

( We must go to Reus,' said the Junior, as the travellers 
were overlooking, from the hill fort of Manjuich, the 
city of Barcelona and the splendid prospect of land and 
ocean which lies around the capital of Catalonia. ' Per- 
haps we should have started from Tarragona ; but we 
must go to Reus somehow.' 

'And why go to Reus? 'asked the Senior, rather 
pettishly; for he had just received a letter which made 
him anxious to be at home. Then turning to his faithful 
' Murray,' and studying it for a moment, he added, 
' There is nothing to be seen at Reus, I find. It is only a 
second-rate manufacturing town, and we have plenty of 
that sort of thing in England, and first-rate articles too.' 

' But there are not many such places in Spain,' said 
the Cashier. ' Indeed, with the exception of Barcelona, 
we have come across very few indications of commercial 
activity since we left England.' 

' I confess,' said the Senior, ' it was refreshing to see 
those cotton-mills in the villages, as we neared Barcelona. 
They give quite as great an indication of prosperity as 
the orange-trees, &c, in the broader plains near Tarra- 
gona. I liked the look of those chimneys a great deal 



El Co nde de Retis, and the State of Spain. 255 



better than the wonderfully jagged peaks of Monserrat, 
which, I suppose, we ought to visit, for everybody goes 
to see the sunrise on Monte San Geronimo ; at least, I 
gather this from "Murray." ' 

' 1/ said the Cashier, ' should like to look at the shrine 
which inspired Loyola with the idea of his Jesuits.' 

'A great man, and a great idea,' said the Junior, ' but 
in practice the whole thing has turned out badly. For, 
somehow or other, the Evil Spirit, who never sleeps, 
manages to drive men, who profess to be eminently 
religious, into very dirty, tortuous, and dangerous paths, 
whatever their particular creed may be.' 

' But,' said the Senior, 'we are forgetting Reus. I 
have asked, why we are to go there, and no one has 
given me as yet any reason at all.' 

'Juan Prim was born at Reus,' replied the Junior; 
and it would be well to get a clear idea of his character 
and history, for such information will throw light on the 
prospects of Spain.' 

' And are you so foolish,' returned the Senior, ' as to 
suppose that we shall be helped to know Prim by seeing 
the spot where he was born ? Castillejo, and his other 
battle-fields, might assist us, perhaps, but Reus will do 
us no good at all.' 

' That is true,' said the Cashier ; ' but I agree with our 
Junior in thinking that the life and death of Prim are 
things well worth studying ; and, as we are here in the 
shade, with a fine view of his Catalonia before us, and 
half an hour to spare, I am quite inclined to discuss El 
Conde de Reus.' 



256 Over Volcanoes. 

'Well/ said the Senior, 'I hope that some of you 
know more about Prim than I do ; for I remember that 
he was shot in the Calle del Turco, and that's all. So I 
shall only ask questions. And first, I want to know 
what is thought of Prim now in Spain ? y 

' It seems to me/ replied the Cashier, ' that the Prim 
of Spain and the Prim of England are two very different 
persons. For, in the first place, the portrait in the 
"Graphic" is not a bit like the photographs in the shops, 
which represent him with a very English face ; and this 
is the case also in the great picture of the Castillejo bat- 
tle-field, at the Town Hall here. Then, again, people in 
England imagine that he and Espartero are the two best 
and honestest men produced in Spain for a long time, 
and that Prim was the better of the two. But here the 
relative position of the pair is reversed, and Prim is not 
admired for anything except his decision, while the son 
of the old carter of Almodovar del Campo is generally 
respected, and even loved/ 

' So far as my information goes, Prim is hated/ said 
the Junior. 

'Why ? ' asked the Senior. 

' By the Isabellaists/ replied the Junior, ' because he 
drove the queen away; by the Alfonsists, because he 
would not consider the claims of the Prince of Asturias ; 
by the Montpensierists, because the Revolution, which 
was effected with the help of the duke's money, has re- 
sulted in the duke's discredit ; and by the Repub- 
licans, because he shot them down, without mercy, 
wherever they rose, and, in fact, supplied the members 



El Conde de Reus, and the State of Spain. 257 

of that party with plenty of candidates for such monu- 
ments as we saw at Malaga and Cartagena.' 

' But the party of the King Amadeo/ suggested the 
Cashier ; * those people must surely stand by the great 
kingmaker of Spain/ 

6 So far as I can make out/ replied the Junior, ( the 
king has not, and never had, a party of his own ; so that, 
if Prim had thrown him over, no human being, including 
Amadeo himself, would have been the least offended or 
surprised.' 

* But there is Serrano/ said the Cashier ; ' surely he has 
not forgotten his colleague V 

' Many people,' replied the Junior, 'will tell you that 
Serrano, so far from loving Prim, hired those Toledo 
ruffians who assassinated him ; and they argue that so 
many men could not have been engaged in such a plot, 
and have executed it at such a place and time, unless with 
the connivance of the very highest powers ; and it is 
further said, that a bet was made on the subject, viz. 
that Prim would kill Serrano, or Serrano Prim, in a 
given time, which bet was just won.' 

'And some/ added the Cashier, 'attribute the same 
amiable feelings and homicidal intention to Montpensier ; 
while others aver that it was an act of private revenge, 
and only connected with politics remotely. For they say 
that, some years ago, Prim planned the assassination of 
Narvaez, and had another person killed by mistake, on 
which the family of the murdered man vowed vengeance, 
and executed their purpose in the Calle del Turco.' 

s 



258 Over Volcanoes. 

i And what do you think about the matter, Mr. 
Cashier ? ' enquired the Senior. 

' I believe none of these stories/ replied he ; i and I 
have a theory of my own on the subject, which is this. 
I happen to know something about the great Republican 
conspiracy, which, having begun in Lombardy, has now 
spread over the world, and is striving to play once again 
the part of the Holy Vehme. I know that Prim had at 
various times coquetted with this body, and had received 
aid from it, which help he repaid at last by ingratitude 
and injuries. Moreover, I know that in all such cases, 
the Carbonari kill their man, if they can/ 

'The murderous villains !' exclaimed the Senior. 

' I don't defend them/ replied the Cashier. ' Indeed I 
wish to have as little as possible to do with them ; but 
they have a good deal to say in their own defence, I can 
assure you.' 

' How can they justify assassination ? ' asked both of 
the Partners at once. 

( What they say is this/ replied the Cashier. ' " We 
presume that war is not wrong ; and if war is not wrong, 
the assassination of tyrants is justifiable. For our 
acts are merely acts of war, and we Carbonari are at 
war. We are at war with all who have robbed us, or 
who would rob us, of our natural and inherent right of 
governing ourselves. These people fight us with their 
weapons, and we fight them with ours. They have 
armies, and navies, and forts, and prisons, and scaffolds ; 
we have only the resolute determination cf desperate 
men." 9 



El Conde de Reus, and the State of Spain. 259 

' And is there no reply to all this ? ' asked the Senior. 
' I confess that I don't see one ; but you can't believe 
that they are right, do you ? ' 

' No/ answered the Cashier, ' they are not right ; but 
they would be unassailable in their position, if one 
granted their first step, which is, that war is justifiable. 
The truth of the matter is, that wars and assassinations 
are immoral and unchristian ; but at present public 
opinion only condemns the latter. This is of course 
illogical, but the effect is good ; and it would be most 
unwise to open the door to another, and a still greater 
curse, because we were already suffering from one of a 
similar nature. But I have no hesitation in saying that 
when Napoleon proclaimed war with Germany, he 
committed a crime of a far deeper dye than that for 
which Orsini's life was justly forfeited, for he sacrificed 
thousands to his selfishness,' 

' Perhaps so,' said the Senior ; ' but the man is down 
now, and not likely to rise again ; so let us be merciful 
to him, and return to Prim, whom we seem to have 
forgotten.' 

' By all means,' said the Cashier. 4 And w T hat a sad 
state of morality his life and death reveal. He was evi- 
dently a constant plotter, which practice might perhaps 
find an excuse in the consistent profligacy of the Govern- 
ment under which he lived. But he was also a spendthrift, 
which should have prevented every true Republican 
from trusting him. Then he is accused of planning the 
assassination of Narvaez, and causing another man to 

be killed in his stead. So much for the inner history 

s 2 



6o 



Over Volcanoes. 



of the hero of Castillejo and the leader of the Mexican 
expedition as a doer. As a sufferer, the colours are still 
darker for Spain. He is shot down in the middle of 
Madrid by assassins, all of whom escape. Then of the 
instigating and paying for this crime, public opinion 
accuses Serrano, his colleague in the Government, and 
Montpensier, his co-conspirator, both of whom are in the 
first ranks of the Spaniards. What a contrast dees all 
this present to England ! ' 



Barcelona. 



261 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

BARCELONA. 

FROM the strong fortress of Monjuich, where the conver- 
sation recorded in the last chapter took place, there is, 
as has been said already, a fine view. 

' That's the sort of prospect I like,' cried the Senior. 
t Barcelona is a thriving, humming city,' and I can easily 
believe, from what I have seen of it, that its people 
manufacture everything that can be made out of wool, 
cotton, silk, and metals/ 

' Besides/ said the Junior, i it has a fine harbour. 
There are three ironclads here now, and some other 
ships of war too.' 

' The port is a bad one,' replied the Cashier. ' The 
entrance is narrow, and a ship must take a pilot.' 

' What a grand view it is,' continued the Senior. ' There 
is the Cathedral, where the great Saracen's head stared 
at us so strangely from under the lofty arch, and where 
the mummy of St. Oldegar lies in state behind the altar 
of his own chapel.' 

' I can't make out the Casa de la Disputacion,' said the 
Cashier, as he used his field-glass, 

' Do you mean/ said the Junior, ' that building where 



20 2 



Over Volcanoes, 



the Chief Justice and his Puisnes were listening to 

pleadings ? ' 

• Yes/ added the Senior ; 1 and the picture of the Cas- 
tillejo victory, with Prim on horseback, was in the 
Archives Hall/ 

1 It is just opposite the Casa Consistorial/ replied the 
Junior, 1 where the fine courtyard is, and those pic- 
turesque windows, which they call ajivtcz! 

' I see both the buildings now/ cried the Cashier. 1 At 
least, I can make out exactly where they are ; and that 
building which looks like the Pitt Press at Cambridge is 
the New University, no doubt. And there is the Ram- 
bla, too, most lovely of promenades — the Rambla with 
the sea at one end and the Plaza Catilina at the other/ 

1 There is a horrible smell at that end by the port/ said 
the Senior, ' a stench quite sufficient to account for all 
the cholera which raged here in 1865/ 

'And there/ said the Junior, who had borrowed the 
glass, 1 is the Liceo Theatre, where we heard " Otello n 
last night/ 

1 And very well they performed the opera/ said the 
Senior. 

1 A magnificent theatre, too ; so large, so well-arranged, 
and comfortable, and cheap. What grand music it was ! ! 

1 That's a fine tune which comes to us now from the 
harbour/ said the Cashier. c How w r ell music sounds at 
a distance, and over water!' 

'Yes, it is a spirit-stirring air,' said the Junior. ' They 
tell me that it is a Galician tune, and very old. All the 
military bands play it/ 



Barcelona. 



263 



' I suppose that big vessel is the flag-ship, " The Villa 
de Madrid," ' said the Cashier. ' I don't see the " Numan- 
tia " and the " Mendez Nunez," but the sailors from both 
were in the Rambla yesterday.' 

1 And a good many soldiers, too,' said the Senior. 
1 There must have been at least fifty men, with all the 
appearance of officers, marching in front of the two 
regiments. What is the meaning of all this force at 
Barcelona ? Surely, no attack from France is medi- 
tated ? ' 

'The Government of Spain/ said the Cashier, 'is ex- 
pecting just what we have been expecting ever since we 
left England, and that is the breaking out of a volcano. 
All these warlike preparations are occasioned by that 
danger, and no other.' 

' I thought yesterday that the hour had arrived,' cried 
the Junior. 

' Why, what happened ? ' asked both of his Partners, 
eagerly. 

1 We know now,' continued the Junior, ' how crowded 
the Rambla always is, but I did not know this when I 
first arrived, which was a little after you, as you re- 
member. Well, it seemed to me that all Barcelona was 
parading in front of the Fonda del Oriente, and suddenly 
my eye fell on a large and gay flag. This was carried 
by a man in a gorgeous dress, and on the flag I 
saw, " Revolution in France. Great Success. Com- 
plete Triumph." Ah ! thought I, the Reds have beaten 
Thiers after all, and no doubt the army has fraternised 
with the citizens. We shall have all Spain in arms now 



264 



Over Volcanoes. 



and see a Republic established before we leave the 
country/ 

' But it was nothing of the sort/ said the Senior, 

' was it ?. ' • 

i Of course not/ returned the Junior ; ' and I was re- 
minded of your story about the Old Long Chamber, Mr. 
Cashier/ 

' Which story ? ' said that gentleman. 'I have very 
many on that subject. But I don't remember any one 
to the point.' 

* Blood, blood, blood ! ' said the Junior. i You recollect 
that story now ?' 

' Of course I do/ said the Cashier, smiling. 

i Let us have it, then/ said the Senior. 

'Well/ said the Cashier, i one dark night, fifty boys 
were sleeping, as usual, in the Old Long Chamber, when 
most of them were suddenly awoke by the words, " Blood, 
blood, blood/' These were uttered in a sepulchral voice, 
and at such an hour the effect was startling. So, jump- 
ing up, we asked, "What blood ? What blood ? " " Blood 
of Fowls," said the same sepulchral voice. That is my 
story, but I don't see the application of it.' 

' It was just the same sort of thing/ said the Junior. 
6 Great success of the French Revolution looked very 
like Blood, blood, blood. But it turned out to be only 
the advertisement of some puffing tailor, who, as he 
averred, had learnt from France how to revolutionise 
prices ; and so my mind was eased by this discovery as 
yours once was by the explanation, " Blood of fowls." ' 

' But although this was a false alarm/ said the Senior, 



Barcelona. 



265 



f I believe that there is danger of a revolution, and I 
should like to know what are the grievances of these 
Spaniards ? Their Constitution seems liberal enough, 
and they have an honest and brave king/ 

'They say/ replied the Cashier, ' that their Constitu- 
tion has been infringed, and that their king is an alien/ 

i It is a melancholy truth/ said the Senior, ' that 
when a country once begins a career of revolutions, 
there seems to be no end to the chaos. And we can't 
be too thankful to the Duke of Wellington for keeping 
us out of the mess by timely concessions. However/ 
he added, i the Spaniards have an institution which 
would, I believe, cause a revolution even in much- 
enduring England, and, what is more, would justify it/ 

' Of course you mean the Custom Houses ? ' said the 
Cashier. 

i Of course I do/ replied the Senior. i The system is 
abominable/ 

' I have not told you what happened to me yesterday/ 
said the Junior ; 'but I will do so now, for it bears upon 
what you have just said/ 

' Let us have the story, by all means/ cried both 
Partners. Thus encouraged, the Junior told his story 
as follows : — ■ 

s At Tarragona, which is not only in Spain, but also in 
Catalonia, our luggage had been examined, as you may 
perhaps remember.' 

' Leave out the perhaps/ said the Senior. ' We are 
not likely to forget these ever- recurring annoyances/ 

4 Well/ continued the Junior, { we never dreamed of 



266 



Over Volcanoes. 



another examination at Barcelona ; and so, giving our 
luggage-tickets to the commissionnaire of the Fonda del 
Oriente, you two started for the hotel. But I stayed, 
because I knew that you, Mr. Senior, are rather nervous 
about your luggage when it is out of sight ; and I am 
glad I did so, for another rummage took place.' 

* What ! another at Barcelona, after that at Tarra- 
gona?' asked the Senior. 

' Yes/ replied the Junior ; ' we waited, waited, and 
waited, sitting in the omnibuses, while a lot of jovial 
old women, laughing at our misfortunes, desired our 
charity/ 

* I don't wonder at their being jovial/ said the Cashier; 
'they realised the immense advantage of having no 
property.' 

'Possibly/ said the Junior; 'but still, with all the 
inconsistency of human nature, they tried hard to 
acquire some effects out of our pockets. But all of us 
were obdurate/ he continued ; ' for the sun streamed 
down on our heads, and we were waiting impatiently 
for deliverance. Well, at the expiration of half an hour 
or so, a door was thrown open, and our boxes ap- 
peared in complete confusion. Yours, Mr. Senior, was 
at one end, mine at another, and the Cashier's in the 
middle. Of course I got them together as soon as I 
could, but there was no hurry. The examination did 
not begin. At last, a man, dressed like a private soldier, 
came forward, and surveyed the confusion before him. 
The look on his face was a hopeless one, and it was 
quite justified by the fact that he, unaided, had to do 



Barcelona. 



267 



all the work of searching. For some time he seemed 
overwhelmed by the prospect of his task, and did 
nothing ; but finally he began, and by looking at one 
portmanteau here, and another there, by going back- 
wards and forwards without any method, and apparently 
guided by some inexplicable caprice, he did manage to 
keep himself awake, and the examination came to an 
end at last. But nothing whatever, after all, was found 
to tax.' 

1 That is just what I expected,' said the Senior ; 
' in spite of all the trouble and expense of their constant 
searches, there is no country so infested by smugglers 
as Spain.' 

1 Of course,' said the Cashier, ' there will always be 
smuggling where the Custom Houses are vexatious.' 

' If I only knew what they want to stop,' cried the 
Senior, ' I would fill my box with that article.' 

' It is tobacco,' said the Cashier, ' and nothing would 
please those carabineers better than to find a lot of it ; 
for they are paid very little, but if they do make a 
seizure, they get half the money.' 

'Ah!' cried the Senior, 'there we arrive at the curse 
of Spain — low salaries and high perquisites ; five hundred 
a-year for a Chief Justice ! This is the worst possible 
economy. Where such a system prevails, wrong must 
be done, and wrong must be suffered, and revolution 
will come sooner or later. 

'Well,' added the Senior, 'I am sorry for the Spaniards. 
It is sad to see a country which has naturally such 
great advantages, such mineral wealth in its hills, and 



268, 



Over Volcanoes. 



such crops of all sorts in its fertile valleys, ruined by a 
succession of bad governments.* 

'The Spaniards brought it on themselves/ said the 
Cashier. 

' How so ?' enquired the Senior. 

' The story is as follows/ replied the Cashier. i St. 
George of England and Santiago of Spain resolved on 
some great occasion to grant the one wish of their 
respective nations — one wish, and one only. So St. 
George said to England : " What will you have ? " The 
reply was " A good government." ' 

' And, by George ! we have it/ cried the Senior. ' The 
government really is good.' 

* Yes/ said the Cashier, ' and a good government 
includes every other blessing ; or, rather, no blessing is 
worth much without a good government. But the 
Spaniards did not know this ; for, turning to them, 
Santiago said: "Nosotros, what will you have?" To 
which they replied : " Handsome women, and glory, 
and a good government." " The two first you shall 
have," said the Saint, " but the last never." ' 

• If this be true/ cried the Senior, ' Spain must be in 
a good way now, for she certainly has lost her glory, 
and I have never seen a woman half so pretty as our 
little Anne. So perhaps they may get a good govern- 
ment some of these days, and I confess that I like the 
look of their king/ 

' Being an Englishman/ said the Cashier, ' I'm half a 
Republican, and I'm sure that there is no other govern- 
ment suitable for France. But if I were a Spaniard, I 



Barcelona. 



269 



should stand by Amadeo ; for the history of the South 
American Republics is enough to frighten anybody, and 
I am not at all surprised that Spain shrinks from the 
fate which has overtaken her children in the New 
World/ 

' I wish that Don Emilio Castelar could see this/ said 
the Junior ; ' if he would loyally serve Amadeo, he 
might be a second Cavour.' 



270 



Over Volcanoes* 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

COMPARING NOTES. 

STEVENS & Co. don't profess to be talkers. They 
belong to no literary societies. They abhor all Con- 
gresses, except the American. They go to no dinner- 
parties in Crockshire, and are perhaps, if the truth were 
known, a little sore because Sir Marvel Usthickhead 
never invites them to Great Meanness Manor. But 
although no talkers, from want of practice, they profess 
during their travels to have been observers, listeners, 
and questioners. Wherever they happened to be, they 
kept their eyes and their ears open. Open to much 
Spanish, of which they divined the meaning by guess- 
work ; open to much French, spoken by Spaniards, of 
which very little could be made out ; and open also to 
the English of the same people, which is perhaps the 
most difficult language which an Englishman ever meets 
with in any part of the world. 

Of course, they conversed too with fellow-travellers 
from Great Britain, of whom the artillery-officer was 
the most intelligent, and the Scotchman the most ori- 
ginal. Much of this talk, no doubt, was hardly worth 
listening to, none perhaps worthy of being recorded. 



Comparing Notes. 



271 



However, the reader shall judge for himself, from a spe- 
cimen of a conversation which took place in the Fonda 
del Oriente, at Barcelona. There were present that Mr. 
Scott who, as may be remembered, wanted a ' vomit ' at 
Alicante, two Americans, and an Irishman, of whom 
more was heard at Gerona. Besides these, there were 
an Englishman who said little, and two or three more 
people who said nothing. An American opened the 
conversation, of course. 

' I don't know/ said he, i how it is with you folks from 
Europe, but I find great difficulty with the money of 
Spain.' 

( I w T ish that it would trouble me more,' cried the Irish- 
man ; ' I don't think that I should make any trouble of it' 

* The worse trouble,' said Mr. Scott, i is to be with- 
out it' 

'But, gentlemen,' continued the American, 'so much 
of the money is bad absolutely, and so much more bad 
comparatively, one does not know what to take. I am 
told that the spurious coinage amounts to five-sixths of 
the whole currency of the country.' 

' I'm told, but I don't believe it,' said the Irishman, 
1 that it is much nearer six-fifths. But what does that 
signify if the money passes ? ' 

' Ay, sir,' said the other American ; ' but it won't pass. 
I took half an Isabellino at Girona's Bank here in 
Barcelona, the other day, and it would not pass in this 
hotel, or at the money-changer's office.' 

' Let 's look at it,' said the Junior, who recollected his 
own experience at Granada. 



272 



Over Volcanoes. 



' I have not got the coin/ said the American. 4 Giro- 
na's clerk gave me another for it the next day/ 

' That sort of thing would not have happened in the 
States/ said the first American. 

' No/ cried the Irishman. i If the bank of Smash & 
Co., in Repudiation City, had once passed a bad bit of 
shin-plaister, I am sure they never would have changed 
it for a good one/ 

' But/ said the second American, good-humouredly 
disregarding the gibe, 6 it is not only the bad money 
that has puzzled me in this country, but all the coinage 
is perplexing. I guess, when I got my first hotel bill, I 
was struck all of a heap by it, for I had only been in 
the Fonda de Espana two days, and the sum total was 
360.50. " What, all this ! " said I to the Boss ; " here's a lot 
of dollars for two days, for I 'spose these here are dollars." 
Well, the Boss shrugged his shoulders. He put out his 
two hands, and he shook his fingers before his nose, and 
he did ever so many other things, which I can't describe. 
" Stranger," says I to him, " I ain't neither deaf nor 
dumb, and I understand any language in reason, but 
especially American. So talk American if you can ; if 
not, talk English ; but, at all events, talk some language 
which is spoken with the tongue, and not with the hands, 
the nose, and the eyes." Well, he went on again just 
the same as before. So then I began to think that I 
must talk Spanish to him. Accordingly, I said " Sefior 
Hoosty," which I 'spose means Mr. Host But the 
stupid fellow did not seem to understand his own lan- 
guage, and it is my opinion that we should never have 



Comparing Notes. 



273 



transacted business at all, for he play-acted uncom- 
mon.' 

' Well, what happened ? ' asked the Senior, laughing. 

' Just then,' continued the American, ' there came up 
an Englishman, with a grey beard, who had been listen- 
ing to us all the time, and laughing like fun, and, says 
he to me, very politely, " I admire your nation, sir, and 
I shall be glad to help you, if I can." " Stranger," 
said I to him, " I guess your intentions are good, but you 
can't do much unless you know the deaf and dumb lan- 
guage, for this fellow seems to speak no other." " Oh !" 
says he, " I think I can manage the business. What 's 
the matter ? " " Matter," says I ; " not much to a man 
from the States. But I have got three hundred and 
sixty dollars and odd to pay for two nights' lodging in 
this here little house, which is built over the stables ; and, 
what's more, I don't know what dollars they are, for we 
have 4s. 6d., 4s. 2d., and Paper Collar dollars, the price 
of which last is various." ' 

' And did the gentleman with the grey beard help 
you ? ' asked the Senior. 

' " Them's not dollars at all," says he. " Them's reals, 
and a real is twopence halfpenny." " That makes a big 
difference," says L " So let the Boss show me the coin, 
that I may know it when I see it again, and I will pay him 
his bill directly." " There's no such coin as the real," says 
the man with the grey beard, grinning again. " Then 
how am I to pay in reals? " says I. " And what are these 
50? "says I. " Decimas," says he. "Then I'll pay in 
decimas," says L " Let the Boss show me that coin ; it 

T 



Over Volcanoes. 



must be a little beauty." "There ain't no decimas 
either," says the man with the grey beard. " Then how 
the plague am I to pay a bill," says I, " when there ain't 
no money ? Will this here Boss take a watch or a 
chain, and let me get back into France, where there 
are francs, at all events ? " " He'll take," said the man, 
" Isabellinos, dollars, and pesetas." " Then let him 
make his account out in them coins," says I, "and I'll 
pay him," says I. So the grey-bearded man said some- 
thing to the Boss which I did not understand, and then 
they both laughed ready to die, and my bill was made 
out in dollars and pesetas, which is the end of the 
story/ 

- It's quite true/ said the Irishman, 'that there are no 
reals or decimas ; but the onza is a pretty coin, and will 
buy any mortal thing in Spain/ 

' I'll tell you one thing which it will not buy, and 
that's a voomit/ said the Scotchman. 1 No one will sell 
me one at any price without a prescription.' 

1 I'll prescribe for you, if that's all,' cried the Irish- 
man. 

Til be greatly obliged/ said the Scotchman; 1 for I 
want a voomit very badly/ 

* Well/ said the Irishman, 1 you must take it before 
breakfast/ 

' I would prefer that/ said the Scotchman. ( It's less 
wasteful/ 

'Well/ said the Irishman. 1 Ye'U go into a house, 
any Spanish house will do, and this Fonda del Oriente 
will do as well as any ; ye'U follow your nose — that is, 



Comparing Notes. 275 

ye'll go where there is the worst smell — and, by the 
powers, it will do the trick for you. Ye'll voomit fast 
enough/ 

• Maybe you're joking/ said the Scotchman. ' I'd 
have ye to know that I come frae Glasgow/ 

'And so are proof against all foreign nastiness/ said 
the Junior, who owed the Scotchman a grudge for 
Alicante. 

' I'll tell you another prescription/ said the first 
American. ' Spend your money in buying those lottery- 
tickets, which they hawk about in the streets. You'll 
soon be very sick of that.' 

' Not at all/ said the Irishman. * I like the lotteries ; 
for, as soon as I've bought a ticket, I drink champagne 
every day till the drawing. For, maybe, says I, I'll be 
winning ten thousand dollars this time.' 

'But you never do win ?' said the American. 

• Divil a bit/ replied the Irishman. 1 But then that 
increases my chance for the next time ; and, next to 
marrying a pretty girl with lots of money, I don't know 
a pleasanter way of making a fortune by honest in- 
dustry (in case you don't happen to be born to one) 
than the Spanish lotteries.' 

' To be kept by a wife/ said the second American, ' is 
about the meanest thing in the world.' 

The Senior hastened to change the subject. ' Do you 
find, gentlemen,' said he, ' that everyone whom you meet 
in Spain offers you food, or at least a cigar ?' 

• No/ said the Irishman, ' I don't ; and, if ever I get 

back to Ireland, I'll bring an action against a Misther 

t 2 



276 



Over Volcanoes. 



Blackburne, or some such name, who wrote a book about 
Spain, and told that big lie. I'll give ye me honour that 
same tale brought me to Spain. Said I, That's the land 
for an Irishman, where everyone whom he meets offers 
him food and a cigar. An Irishman will live very well 
there. This used to be the fashion in County Clare, 
Tipperary, and Roscommon ; but the ould race is all 
ruined, more's the pity. So I'll be off to Spain, said I ; 
and here I am/ 

' But/ said the Senior, ' you don't find that Mr. Black- 
burne was correct, do you ? ' 

' Gentlemen/ said the Irishman, ' if you'll believe me, 
not a sowl has offered me even a cigar since I have been 
in this country, present company not excepted.' 

On this hint, everyone produced his cigar-case, and 
handed a cuba to the Irishman, who pocketed all, one 
after the other. The Scotchman had been the first to 
free himself from the imputation of inhospitality ; but, 
when he saw what was going on, he said, ' I'll thank you, 
sir, to hand me that cigar back again. You may smoke 
it, if you like, but don't pouch it.' 

' Show me which it is/ said the Irishman, ' and I'll 
smoke it at once to please you.' 

The Scotchman took up the lot, which had been 
handed to him for inspection, carefully examined them 
all, quietly selected his own, and, with great gravity, 
returned it to his case. The Senior once more had to 
change the conversation. 

* What do you think, sir/ said he, addressing the 
Irishman, ' of Spanish soldiers ?' 



Comparing Notes. 



277 



1 Fine fellows/ replied he ; ' but they would look all 
the better if they had shoes, instead of sandals/ 

'And breechloaders/ added one of the Americans, 
1 instead of old muskets.' 

' They are better as they are/ said the Scotchman, 
1 for no nation is likely to attack them ; and, whilst they 
are fighting with each other, the worse they are armed, 
and the fewer they kill, the better will it be for Spain. 
Muzzleloaders are quite good enough for such work as 
that/ 

' A good shillelagh/ cried the Irishman, ' would be 
the best weapon of all ; and, for that matter, every 
Spanish boy carries one of these in his belt. There 
must be some very pretty faction fights at the Seville 
Fair ; and, if the people of Spain would consint to settle 
all the rows in this way, it would be the pleasantest 
country in the world for an Irishman to live in, espe- 
cially if they found him food and cigars/ 

1 Can anyone tell me/ said the first American, ' whether 
there is any place in this city where a decent sermon in 
English can be heard on a Sunday ? I went to the 
Chaplain's house last week, for the afternoon service, 
and he catechised us.' 

'Ay,' said the Junior, ' I was there myself; and he 
told us that he was surprised to find that we did not 
know anything about Ascension Day. There were not 
above eleven of us, and we looked rather ashamed/ 

'But why did you not answer him ?' said the Senior. 

- My dear Mr. Senior/ said the Junior, ' if preachers 
were answered, they would hear a great deal more than 



2 7 8 



Over Volcanoes. 



they liked. I was prepared to listen to any amount of 
nonsense from him, but not inclined to subscribe my 
quota.' 

1 Now, gentlemen, I'll ask another question,' said the 
American, ' who are the modern writers of reputation in 
Spain V 

Before the Cashier, who really knew something about 
this subject, could answer, the irrepressible Irishman 
broke in, and cried, 1 Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. 
But the latter, they say, although only a peasant, is the 
better of the two. But, gentlemen,' added he, 1 it is time 
to part now ; for the Teatro Principal will be open, and 
a play is a pleasant amusement, even when one does not 
understand a word.' 

So the party broke up ; some for a stroll on the 
Rambla, some for a longer walk to Barceloneta, and the 
Irishman for the Teatro Principal. It will be seen in 
the next chapter how 7 the Members of the Firm employed 
themselves. 



Specimens of the Modern Poetry of Spain. 279 



CHAPTER XL. 

SOME SPECIMENS OF THE MODERN POETRY OF SPAIN. 

AFTER the conversation recorded in the last chapter, 
and when the Irishman, the Scotchman, and the two 
Americans had started for the Teatro Principal, or else- 
where, a gentleman, who had been silent, drew his chair 
close to us, and said, i An ignorant fellow that Irishman 
is, and not a man of much principle. He has hardly 
a penny, and is running after an English girl for her 
money. I saw them together at Gerona a few days 
ago, and I really fear that he will succeed in entrap- 
ping her ; for she has nobody with her except a mother, 
who is as foolish as herself/ 

i Why did you not set him right as regards the 
modern authors of Spain ?' asked the Cashier. 

'And 1/ said the stranger, 'may ask the same ques- 
tion of you ; for, unless I am mistaken, you know some- 
thing of the literature of the country through which you 
are travelling/ 

' Not much/ replied the Cashier ; 'I am not so well ac- 
quainted with Spanish as my friend, our Junior Partner 
here ; but I have read the translations of " Don Quixote " 
and " Gil Bias," of course, together with Roscoe's 



28o 



Over Volcanoes. 



" Spanish Novelists/' and also " The Flower of a Day," an 
excellent play, by Don Francisco Camprodon, which has 
been rendered into good English by Sir William B. 
Parker/ 

1 I, too/ said the stranger, ' have tried my hand at 
Spanish translations ; and, if you will come to my room, 
you shall judge for yourselves as to the success which I 
have achieved.' So the Members of the Firm adjourned, 
and the stranger produced his MSS. ' The first, which I 
will read to you,' said he, ' is an extract from Ouien es 
Ella?" a comedy, by Breton de los Herreros, 1 an author 
who is still living. Eighteen years ago I thought that 
the lines had been written by Quevedo, and the mis- 
take was not discovered by the editor of " Fraser's Ma- 
gazine," to whom I sent the contribution. But the truth 
is, that Breton de los Herreros introduces Quevedo as 
one of the characters in his play u i Quien es Ella ? " and 
the Quevedo of Herreros speaks so like the Quevedo of 
real life, that anyone might be pardoned for the mistake 
into which I fell.' 

1 Let us hear the lines/ said the Senior. 

Accordingly, the stranger, who proved to be a clergy- 
man travelling in search of health, read the following : — 

WHO IS SHE? 
A certain Justice of the Quorum, 
Not quite a fool, 



1 Don Manuel Breton de los Herreros, of the Spanish Academy, was 
born of noble parents at Quel, in the province of Logrono, in the year 1 796. 
He enlisted as a private soldier in 1812, and served until 1822. Like most 
of the able men of Spain, he is a strong Liberal, but these principles have 
not prevented him from obtaining the Cross of Charles III. 



ecimens of the Modern Poetry of Spain. 



When theft or murder came before 'em, 

Made it a rule 
At once to stop the lawyer's chatter, 

Saying, ' D'ye see ? 
Let's probe the bottom of this matter ; 

' Pray — Who is she ? 5 

And this in truth was the proceeding 

Of common sense ; 
To trace She Agents at the breeding 

Of each offence. 
For oftentimes, in face of day, 

Crime goes scot free, 
Because the Judge forgets to say 

< Pray— Who is she ? ' 

In every lawsuit which by man 

Is set afloat, 
Put miracles aside, one can 

Smell petticoat; 
In each a woman figures, maid, 

Wife, widow, as may be ; 
Then nothing ever need be said 

But— ' Who is she?' 

If Adam lost his Paradise 

'Twas Eve's tripping ; 
A thing withheld beguil'd her eyes — 

A fig or pippin. 
From whence the author of our woes 

Is plain to see, 
And all creation groaning knows 

That it was 1 she. ' 

If you should walk o'er what was Troy, 

Ashes and sand ; 
And think of Grecia's guileful joy, 

And ruthless band ; 
Let your stern judgment 'twixt the two 

Suspended be, 
Until Homerus answers you, 

* Pray — Who is she ? ' 

Or if poor Blaize has spent his gold 
On some love -knot, 



282 



Over Volcanoes. 



Till everything that could be sold 

Had gone to pot, 
Ask not what baleful star has ruled 

His destiny ; 
But ask how luckless Blaize was fooled, 

And ' Who was she ? ' 

When in the street you hear a rout, 

A deadly fray, 
And one sore wounded falters out, 

' Help me, I pray.' 
Say Requiescat to the slain — 

The slayer, let him be, 
And at the next inn ask again, 

1 Pray — Who is she ? ' 

If on the bed of pain you see 

A gallant youth, 
And of his grievous malady 

Would know the truth, 
Let not of fever or catarrh 

Your questions be, 
But ask, a wiser thing by far, 

4 Pray — Who is she ? ' 

It is a sex both kind and chaste 

When rather plain ! 
The old and snubnosed are my taste ; 

But I refrain, 
Like a poor coward, from the maid, 

Young, fair, and free, 
And pop my question, half afraid, 

* Pray — Who is she ? ' 

1 Very severe on the women/ said the Senior. ' Did 
Quevedo always write in that style ? ' 

' No/ replied the clergyman ; ' and Breton de los 
Herreros lets him make his apology at the end of the 
play, in a totally opposite strain.' 

' Let us have those lines, then, by all means/ cried the 
Junior. 



Specimens of the Modern Poetry of Spain. 283 



' They are not half as good/ replied the clergyman ; 
'and, with your permission, the antidote to this cynicism 
shall come in the shape of a beautiful passage from a 
melodrama called " The Unshriven, Traitor, or Martyr ? " 
The writer is Don Jose Zorrilla, who died a short time 
ago, and must not be confounded with the statesman, Don 
Ruiz Zorrilla. The subject of the melodrama is a story 
of which the poets of the Peninsula are very fond, viz. 
the adventures of Don Sebastian, King of Portugal. In 
the " Unshriven " he is represented as disguised, and he 
calls himself Gabriel Espinosa, a pastrycook at Madrigal. 
Dona Aurora is really the daughter of the judge who 
condemns the king to death ; and she, dearly loved by 
Don Caesar, her brother, who is ignorant of the relation- 
ship, has given her maiden heart to the poor, beaten, 
exiled king, who passes for her father/ 

i That sounds well/ said the Senior ; ' let us have the 
verses, by all means/ 

' They are part of a play, remember ; and Dona 
Aurora is replying to Don Caesar, who, having made his 
offer in vain, has charged her with being cold and un- 
loving : — 

Aurora. 

Senor, the love which in you lies, 

You've ventured to impart. 
Now learn my thoughts, which shun the eyes, 

But lie within the heart. 
For there a mighty love is rife, 

A blind, yet pure desire, 
Coeval with my very life, 

And glowing like a fire ; 
A love brimful of deep delight, 

Yet moist with tearful showers, 



Over Volcanoes. 



Like a bird singing in the night, 

Or the faint scent of flowers. 
A love it is as alien 

From all impurity, 
As that which warms a mother, when 

Her boy is on her knee. 
'Tis a tall beacon raised on high, 

Whereof the constant flame 
Nor flickers, nor can ever die, 

But still remains the same 
In floods of grief, or streams of bliss, 

In quiet, or in strife ; 
Deep in my heart of hearts is this 

Entwined around my life. 
It is a bright, a guiding star, 

Amid the lonely gloom, 
A Pharos in the tempest's jar, 

A lamp -within the tomb. 

Cess a?\ 

You love ? 

Aurora. 

I do, and nobly, though 

His name he would conceal, 
I love with all the love a girl 

For her true love can feel. 
I loved him since the hour we met 

In all fidelity ; 
And when they lay me in my grave 

My love will lie with me. 
I'll live for him, dream of him still, 

What he detests, detest ; 
Like what he likes, and let my will, 
His captive, every wish fulfil 

Which passes through his breast. 
If he should bid me hate or love, 
I'll act the tiger or the dove, 

Thrice happy to obey ; 
And since he said of thee, That youth 
Must be your friend. To thee in sooth, 

My only friend, I say, 
My friendship's thine. Nay, more, if he 



Specimens of the Modern Poetry of Spain. 285 



Should say, Begone to slavery ; 
By heaven, I swear, as thou for me, 
So I for him, right willingly 

To bondage would be sold. 
And now respect the thoughts confess'd 
Your wisdom never could have guessed, 

My secret has been told. 
Once more if I have fail'd to please 
With weighty reasons such as these, 
Take this for all, in whole or part, 
That I was born without a heart. 
Farewell — 

Ccesar. 

Oh ! stay a moment more. 

Aurora. 

No, not an instant ; all is o'er ; 

My heart to friendship faithless never, 

To love from you is dead for ever.' 

'And how does it all end V asked the Senior. 

' Very sadly,' replied the clergyman. ' After the 
execution of Don Sebastian, under the name of Gabriel 
Espinosa, Dona Aurora finishes the play by thus ad- 
dressing her father, the judge who condemned him :— 



Thee I renounce, from thee I fly, 

Forgotten let me be ; 
And that dear name of daughter, too, 

Treated so ill by thee ; 
And mays't thou be as hapless as 

Those who by thee have died, 
And in my stead for ever, see, 

Thou haughty homicide! 
See those twin ghosts before thine eyes 

Throughout thy horrid life — 

o J 

My mother, and my Gabriel too, 
Thy victim, and thy wife. 



' On which Don Rodrigo falls senseless (as well he 



286 



Over Volcanoes. 



may) ; Dona Aurora leaves by a door at the back ; 
Don Csesar follows her sadly, and the curtain falls.' 

'You spoke of Quevedo just now,' said the Junior. 
' Do you know those lines of his on Don Dinero, or Mr. 
Money ? ' 

' Yes,' said the clergyman ; ' I know them well, and 
have tried to translate them, but I did not succeed.' 

' I have paraphrased them,' said the Junior. 

* Read them to us, by all means,' said the Senior. ' A 
tradesman likes to be told anything . about money, 
especially from a man of business.' 

So the Junior read the following verses : — 

MONEY ESQUIRE. 
A soldier bom and bred was Guy, 

And fit to be 
A Moltke ; but he could not buy 

His company ! 
And epaulets are let on hire 

To — Money Esquire ! 
A statesman for his county stood, 

And made much way, 
For he was wise, and firm, and good, 

Yet lost the day ! 
And he who sits for Hardcashire 

Is— Money Esquire. 
The Ivor, loved by Ivor's clan, 

Sold his last fief, 
And sorrow over Scotland ran 

For that young chief ; 
But through Strathivor and Cantire 

Stalked — Money Esquire. 
There is a stately, holy pile, 

The wise, the brave, 
In chapels, transepts, nave, and aisle, 

Find a fit grave ; 
But that huge tomb which blocks the choir 

Shrines — Money Esquire. 



Specimens of the Modern Poetry of Spain. 287 

So while there reigned at Bullion Park 

A joyous heir, 
Its founder wandered through the dark, 

To Blazes — where, 
Most welcome to a Prince's fire, 

Was — Money Esquire. 

'I'm ashamed of you, sir!' cried the Senior, very 
angrily. i Those verses might have been written without 
offence by a hungry and angry Communist ; but they 
are a disgrace to a gentleman, who is, at present, a 
member of the first Firm, in its own line, which Great 
Britain has the honour of possessing/ 

'You must make allowances for him/ said the clergy- 
man, ' and remember that he was only paraphrasing 
Quevedo/ 

'I don't believe/ replied the Senior, 'that Quevedo 
wrote anything half so bad ; but, never mind, I shall 
remember the Radical spirit which has been shown to- 
day, and not for the first time/ 

' I have only one more translation to offer/ said the 
clergyman, hoping to allay the storm. ' It is an epi- 
gram, or rather two epigrams, from " The Shark," a 
Barcelona " Punch." ' 

6 1 should like to hear them/ said the Senior ; ' comic 
papers give an excellent idea of the state of feeling in 
any country, and are, in fact, a sort of pulse/ 

' If that be so/ said the clergyman, ' Romanism is in 
a bad way here ; for the following is only a specimen 
of continual attacks upon it, and it is much milder than 
most. However, you shall judge for yourselves. It is 
as follows : — 



283 



Over Volcanoes, 



A CONTRAST. 



PIO xoxo. 



1870. 

I'm Pope, and I'm infallible, 
A king, too, thanks to Xap : 



1871. 



Napoleon and the French have left 
The Pope without a crown : 



'Tis strange my Holiness should owe Then can I be infallible ? 



L That's very neat/ cried the Senior mollified. M 
don't care how much the Pope is attacked ; but property, 
sir, ought to be respected/ 

1 In spite of a certain parable,' said the Junior. 

The Cashier kindly interposed by asking : 1 Do you 
know "La Maldicion de Dios," by Don Manuel Fer- 
nandez y Gonzalez ? ' 

The question was addressed to the clergyman, and he 
answered, ' Yes, I do ; and the first part of the novel also. 
The hero of both is the famous Don Juan Tenorio. 
All Spaniards know that book. The prologue is espe- 
cially good ; and I could read to you an episode of it, 
which is very interesting, and complete in itself. It 
explains, too, how the curse fell on Tenorio's ancestry 
by the mothers side. But I can't do any more at this 
sitting, for I'm an invalid and my eyes are weak. It 
is late now, so I must say good night ; but if you 
will come to my room to-morrow evening, I shall be 
delighted to see you, and we will have Don Juan 
Tenorio.' 

' We accept your invitation with pleasure/ said the 
Senior. ( Indeed, I propose that we spend all to-morrow 
together. I hope, too, that you, who seem to know the 



All this to such a chap. 



o ; for I've fallen down ! ' 



Specimens of the Modern Poetry of Spain. 289 

place, will take us round the city ; for our laquais, 
although very obliging, speaks English badly; and he 
told us to-day that the pillar and statue of Columbus 
were monuments erected to the memory of some ad- 
miral, whose name he could not recollect.' 

i He will know better very soon,' said the Cashier. 
'The man is an Italian, very obliging and clever, but 
a stranger at present. However, if our friend will 
accompany us to-morrow, he will confer a great favour 
on all of us.' 

The clergyman consented at once ; and the pro- 
gramme for the next day was settled accordingly. 



V 



290 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XLI. 

BARCELONA, ESPARTO, ETC. 

THE clergyman kept his appointment, and he brought 

with him also another gentleman, named M ; so 

the party which issued into the Rambla consisted of five. 

' Where are we going ? ' said the Senior. * Let us sit 
down in the shade first, and hold a council of war/ 

' If I may judge from the warlike style of your lan- 
guage/ said the clergyman, ' you will be interested in 
the famous citadel. I can't say, however, that I care 
for such sights, and when I was here last, that is about 
three years ago, I was not sorry to see the people dis- 
mantling the fortifications with very hearty earnest- 
ness/ 

'A wise act of the Catalonians/ said the Senior. 
i Fortifications are a curse to a capital. See what Paris 
has suffered/ 

' But/ said Mr. M , ' there must be strongholds in 

every country, especially in those which are not encircled 
by the ocean/ 

' True/ replied the Senior ; ( at least, while wars are 
tolerated by civilised people; but fortifications should 
not enclose large populations, which are only sources of 
weakness to them/ 



Barcelona, Esparto, etc. 



291 



' They should, however, command railway junctions 
and navigable rivers, and great arsenals/ suggested the 
Junior. 

1 Some people,' said the Cashier, ' talk of fortifying 
London/ 

i Yes/ replied the Senior ; 'and of adding thirty thou- 
sand more men to our standing army, which is too 
numerous already, and of embodying the Volunteers, 
and a hundred other projects still more foolish ; but let 
all the politicians say what they like, the men of Barce- 
lona acted very wisely, when they demolished their 
citadel/ 

t But they were stopped by the Government/ said the 
clergyman. 

' No doubt they were/ replied the Senior. 6 Govern- 
ments are capable of any folly ; and we shall be foolish if 
we go and look at walls and ditches, which are ugly 
things in time of peace, and a thousand times more 
ugly in war. I vote, then, that we go nowhere in par- 
ticular to-day, but walk about the city, as if we lived 
here/ 

This suggestion was approved of ; and so the travellers 
strolled down the Rambla towards the sea, and turned 
into the Plaza Real. Before them stood the Casa 
Lonja. 

' That's the Exchange/ said the clergyman. 4 It will 

be interesting to you men of business ; and, by the bye, 

this other gentleman, Mr. M , is a man of business 

also,., and engaged in the purchase of esparto.' 

* What is esparto ? ' asked the Senior. 

u 2 



292 



Over Volcanoes. 



' You have seen/ said Mr. M 



' those curious and 



enormous panniers, in which the scavengers at Seville 
and elsewhere collect manure. Those are made of 
esparto. In fact/ he added, ' every article which can be 
manufactured from a strong wiry grass is made of 
esparto in Spain. Amongst other things, the matting in 
the Picture Gallery of Madrid is of that material.' 

' And very pleasant it is both to walk upon and to 
smell/ said the Cashier. 

' But you, sir/ said the Senior, addressing Mr. M , 

' do not want esparto for any of these purposes, I 
imagine, since we don't use panniers in England ; and as 
for matting, the fibre of the cocoa-nut does very well 
for us.' 

' You are right/ said Mr. M . ' I require esparto 

for something much more useful than those articles 
which you have mentioned. We use it for paper, and we 
should be glad to have a great deal more than can be 
procured.' 

' A capital state of affairs for Spain,' said the Cashier. 

t This is the case, apparently/ said Mr. M , ' for 

the grass grows wild where nothing else will live, and the 
chief expense is the cost of gathering/ 

' Then what is the drawback ? ' asked the Senior. 

' Only this,' replied Mr. M , ' that our search for 

esparto has added another to the many subjects about 
which the Spaniards quarrel. For formerly, when the 
grass was worth next to nothing, almost anyone was 
allowed to collect it everywhere, but now the owners 
of the land claim their rights of property, and the 




Barcelona, Esparto, etc. 



293 



peasants are irritated, and disposed to be riotous. Fifty 
soldiers were sent the other day to protect another Mr. 

M , while he was engaged in buying the yield of a 

certain district in Murcia.' 

' Why don't you have the crop cultivated ? ' asked the 
Cashier. 4 There would be no doubt as to the proprie- 
torship if that were done.' 

'The only objection to your proposal,' replied Mr. 

M , i is that the speculation would be ruinous to all 

parties concerned in it ; for esparto grows very shyly, 
except w T here it sows itself, and it takes three years to 
come to perfection. Therefore, if it were cultivated, it 
would cost a good deal per pound, whereas we must, in 
the manufacture of paper, secure a substance to work 
with, w T hich is worth next to nothing in itself, as rags ; 
and I am sorry to say,' he added, ' that we hardly know 
where to turn for such a raw material. As for esparto, 
that produced by Spain, and also by Algiers, will soon 
be exhausted.' 

' In our country/ said the Cashier, ' farmers burn their 
couch grass. Would that answer your purpose ? It 
might be had at a low rate.' 

' We have made, and are making, experiments upon 

couch grass/ replied Mr. M ; ' but not with entire 

success as yet. We shall, how r ever, succeed at last, no 
doubt. But by that time it is possible that the farmers 
will have abolished couch grass, and we can't afford to 
pay them for cultivating it.' 

' But you use up old paper, don't you ? ' said the 
Junior, 'and put it through the mill again ? ' 



Over Volcanoes, 



1 I am happy to know that they do/ cried the clergy- 
man. ' And this habit of theirs relieved me years ago of 
much difficulty ; for when I was a voun^ man, I, like 
most people, fell in love, and the lady being more 
wealthy and better born than mvself, it became clear 
that I could not asuire to the honour of marrvincr her 
unless I succeeded in distinguishing my name at once. 
Under these circumstances, the only method which 
occurred to me for obtaining my object was to publish 
a volume of poems. Of course I could not induce any 
publisher to take the least interest in my venture ; but 
this neglect had the advantage of enabling me to bring 
out my book in the most sumptuous fashion, and this 
accordingly I did. The binding was most elegant, the 
printing superb, the paper as thick as could be procured. 
I need hardly say that the critics took little notice of 
my poems, and no one bought them. Under which cir- 
cumstances, I naturally quarrelled with my publisher, 
and soon had all the impressions on my hands. Oh, how 
I hated the sight of those five hundred copies 1 especially 
after my Kathleen (that, however, was not her name) 
had married a baronet, at whom she and I had laughed 
often. What was to be done with those five hundred 
copies ? The paper was too thick and stiff for the 
grocers, and it was the greatest relief when, after many 
enquiries, I sold the whole impressions to be worked up 
again.' 

' Everybody/ said the Senior, 1 publishes a book or 
two now. We, who ought to know better, have been 
bitten with the madness, and I am much obliged for the 



Barcelona, H spar to, etc, 295 



hint which you have given us as to the disposal of the 
residue, but I hope, by the adoption of a new mode of 
puffing, to secure a sale.' 

' May I ask what your plan is ? ' said Mr. M , 

1 for I too am thinking of using some of my own 
esparto as an author.' 

6 I must talk over the matter with my partners before 
I give you this information/ replied the Senior. * And 
now, as our conversation has brought us to the Casa de 
la Disputacion, let us have another look at Prim/ 

' A common, not to say vulgar face,' said the Cashier^ 
* but an admirable likeness, I am told. I seem to know 
exactly, now that I have seen his likeness, w T hat Prim 
was.' 

' Yes,' said the clergyman, i portraits are most va- 
luable. Pantoja and Titian have made me personally 
acquainted with Carlos Quinto and Felipe Segundo ; and 
that advantage alone will repay a person for journeying 
to Madrid.' 

' By the bye,' said the Junior, ' Barcelona has some 
pictures, has it not ? ' 

' None which deserve to be looked at after those of 
the great masters which I have just mentioned,' said the 
clergyman ; ' but the identical sword which Loyola 
offered on the altar of the Virgin at Monserrat is at San 
Belem, not far from the Plaza in which we are.' 

' The armoury at Madrid,' said Mr. M , 1 is full 

of such curiosities ; but I did not take so much interest 
in the helmets of Hannibal and Julius Caesar as in the 
earliest attempt at a revolver.' 



296 



Over Volcanoes. 



( Gentlemen/ said the Senior, i I regret to have occa- 
sion for making the observation, but I am afraid that 
the heat and the bad smells of this place have made our 
conversation rather dull. So I propose that we go 
through the Goldsmith Street to our fonda at once, and 
there listen to Don Juan Tenorio.' 

' But/ said the Junior, ' we have not half seen Barce- 
lona, and we go on to Gerona to-morrow/ 

' Sir/ said the Senior, i if we were to weary ourselves 
to death by walking all over the place to-day, and even 
if we repeated this process for the next week, we should, 
after all, only obtain a partial knowledge of Barcelona. 
At present, we have an accurate idea of a few spots in 
it, which acquisition will stick by us, as a pleasing recol- 
lection, for ever. Moreover, we have an enjoyable feel- 
ing as regards the whole city — that is, we shall have 
this satisfaction if you take my advice and go to our 
fonda! 

To this proposal all agreed, and the reading took 
place accordingly. But a page from Don Juan Tenorio 
must have a chapter to itself. 



1 The Curse on Hins el Gibel! 



297 



CHAPTER XLII. 

1 THE CURSE ON HINS EL GIBEL,' FROM DON JUAN 

TENORIO. 

1 " LISTEN, Kussul," said the Hagib ; " I want you to 
know, before I kill you, how a son avenges his father." 

' The Wali listened in terrible silence. 

' " It is now sixteen years since a noble and brave 
soldier lived at Hins el Gibel. He was weary of feats 
of arms, and he was weak from wounds received while 
fighting for his king. So he retired to his estates. 
There he lived happily, for he had married a maiden 
of his own tribe, whom he had met during a visit to 
Africa. And there he had, by her, two sons. The third 
child, a girl, was born at Hins el Gibel. That man 
was Abu Hiram, my father ; that lady was Zarah, my 
mother ; and Almanzur, now Lord Wali of Olite, and 
Azorah, were my brother and my sister. God had given 
happiness and peace to the warrior, love to the wife, and 
a happy prospect for the future to the children. But 
the Spirit of Evil, who never sleeps, one day brought to 
Hins el Gibel a wandering hunter, a fugitive, a rebel 
against Aboud Sayd, his king. The wanderer asked 
for hospitality, and hospitality an Arab, who fears God 



2 9 3 



Over Volcci7ioes. 



and loves man, never refuses. The hunter found a 
place of refuge, the hungry wretch got food, the man 
met a friend and a sister, the rebel a pardon. For the 
king could refuse nothing to my father, who had saved 
his life three times, and who had spilled his blood in his 
service. So the poor hunter, the hungry man, the 
beggar, the rebel, returned to the king's court pardoned 
and honoured. That man was Kussul ebn Amer — you, 
chosen by Satan to bring dishonour on my race, to turn 
my father, once so powerful, into a beggar — once so 
loyal, into a rebel. 

* " One night my father was sitting by his own hearth, 
my mother was playing on her guzla, and we, that is, 
my brother and sister and I, were sleeping on the laps 
of three female slaves. It was a fearful night ; the rain 
came down in torrents, and the thunder roared over 
Hins el Gibel. 

' " The country at that time was peaceful ; my father 
was beloved by all the lords, his neighbours. So he 
called in his guards. As soon as he had done this, 
their watch-cry ceased, and nothing was heard except 
the terrible roar of the tempest outside, and the sound 
of my mother's voice within, who, to the music of her 
guzla, sang a strain of love. All of a sudden, the whole 
woodwork of a window was forced in, and scattered on 
the floor. A man, armed to the teeth, leaped into the 
room ; after him came another, and another — a very 
inundation, a hundred men at least. The man who, 
favoured by the noise of the tempest and the unsus- 
picious nature of my father, had scaled and carried his 



- The Curse on Hins el Gibel! 299 



castle, was thou, Kussul ! — thou, who advancedst inso- 
lently and arrogantly, like a bandit. Defence was im- 
possible, the men-at-arms of my father were asleep, he 
himself was disarmed, and so he fell into your power. 
You had conceived an evil love for my mother when 
you were in our castle as a guest. You had planned a 
means of satisfying your desires, and, fortified by the 
favour of the king, which my father had procured for 
you, you assaulted his home, you wounded him, and 
left him for dead, after which you carried off my mother, 
my brother, my sister, and myself, before our soldiers 
awoke from their sleep." 

* The Hagib stopped here, and looked fixedly at 
Kussul, who stood before him listening, immovable, and 
silent as a statue of destiny. 

1 " We were young then," continued Luke Taleb ; " I, 
the elder of the two brothers, was only eight years old. 
Yet I recollect, like a terrible dream, that night of 
blood. I remember, too, confusedly, how one day they 
gave me up, with my brother, to some men who were 
strangers to me ; how they separated me from a mother 
who wept at the knees of another man ; while a little 
girl, who could not enter into her mother's grief, was 
smiling. That mother was Zarah ; that little girl was 
Azorah ; that man was thou ! When my reason could 
judge of circumstances, I found myself the slave of a 
marabout in Algiers. That man did not know who we 
were. He only knew our name and parentage ; me he 
called Luke Taleb, and Almanzur became the name of 
my brother. We, however, knew that in Granada we 



30o 



Over Volcanoes. 



had a mother and a sister. The marabout treated us as 
his sons, for he was a brave and just and God-fearing 
man. He brought us up in the knowledge of the 
Koran, and the laws of chivalry, and so he made us 
strong and brave. To this man God has given a place 
in Paradise — for he is dead ! " 

' The face of Kussul assumed a strange expression. 
" And that man,'' he said, in a deep and constrained 
tone. 

' " I have already told you," continued Luke Taleb, 
whose voice could not dominate the tremulousness of 
passion, " I have already told you that the marabout 
was kind and just ; he loved us as his sons, and gave us 
for a heritage our liberty and his wealth, for Abd el 
Allah was very wealthy." 

' " And nothing more ? " asked Kussul, with the same 
marked expression as before. 

' " Yes," answered Luke Taleb, with a horrible smile ; 
" he told us our history. He told us your name, and 
that was the most precious legacy which he gave us ; 
because your name was an assurance of revenge — revenge 
for a father assassinated, a mother dying of despair, and 
a sister sold." 

' " Did they tell you that I sold your sister ? " ex- 
claimed Kussul, with satanic enjoyment. 

1 " Listen ! " said Luke Taleb, " listen well, Lord Wali, 
for after the death of the marabout, and my return to 
the Alpuj arras, with my brother, my revenge began." 

' " I want to know," cried Kussul furiously, " before 
all, in what way you have put dishonour upon me ? " 



1 The Curse on Hins el Gibel' 301 

' " Do you think," he added, " that I have sufficient 
patience to see alive before me all this long time an 
enemy who insults me ? " 

' " I waited for it," answered Luke Taleb, " sixteen 
years in slavery." And he spoke in a tone of such assured 
vengeance, that Kussul, in spite of his bravery, trembled. 

' The Hagib noted the impression made on the old 
man, and continued with redoubled harshness. " You 
tremble, and you ought to tremble, Kussul, because 
you must be aware that between us two there is an 
abyss, full of blood, in which one or the other must 
be drowned. You tremble, because you know that the 
justice of God must strike you; you tremble because the 
hand of the son is strong enough to break the arm 
which traitorously smote the father." 

' " The hand of God ! " exclaimed the old man, whose 
face was again lit up with the same diabolical expression 
as before. " You say well," he continued, " the hand of 
God is extended above us, and it will deal a terrible and 
just blow to the heads of both." 

' In his turn a cold shudder passed over the limbs of 
Luke Taleb. There was no visible ground or cause for 
it. But it sprang from one of those mysterious and 
fatal presentiments which no human being understands. 

' However, he mastered himself and proceeded. " I 
w r ent to Granada, and presented myself to the king as 
a Moor from Africa, giving him my real name. Men 
disgraced are soon forgotten, and my father had been 
so terribly disgraced that no one was likely to recollect 
that he had two sons. My brother and myself then 



302 



Over Volcanoes. 



passed for Africans of the Zeneta tribe, and since we 
were rich and valiant, and gave to the king both our 
gold and our blood, we served him, as is well known, 
and became what we are — Almanzur a Wali, and I a 
Hagib. And all this was in the pursuit, not of ambition, 
but of vengeance. For I knew that the higher I raised 
myself, the heavier would my hate fall on you. So I 
did raise myself, and I might now be almost a king, if I 
had liked to marry Fatima. For Fatima, the most 
beautiful of the daughters of Yucef, may be my wife, 
but only when I have exterminated you, Kussul." 

' For the third time a satanic smile played over the 
face of the old man, and for the third time the Hagib 
shuddered. He dreaded, w r ith an invincible dread, that 
man who must feel secure of enjoying a cruel revenge, 
since he thus played with his anger. 

' " It shall be," Luke Taleb said hoarsely — and his 
voice sounded like the roar of a hungry tiger — " it shall 
be, then. Before that, look you — ay, and quickly ; for 
by the Almighty and One God, my tale is coming to 
an end." 

' Then in a more collected strain he continued : 
' " I knew by means of the marabout, my old friend, 
your home ; and it was easy to meet with you at court. 
In the first place, then, I bribed your pages, your 
eunuchs, and your slaves. I knew that my sister had 
been sold by you after the death of my mother, and 
that subsequently — namely, last year, a veiled girl, 
whose face no one saw, and whom you called your 
daughter, was introduced into your house. The name 



'The Curse on Hins el Gibel! 



303 



of that woman was Novara ; and, according to the 
glimpse, which was all your servants had of her, she was 
very beautiful. I wanted to know her — and gold will 
do everything — -so I bought your eunuchs, and, dis- 
guised in one of their dresses, I got over the paling of 
your garden one night— and many nights ; and at last, 
thanks to patience and money, I succeeded in cor- 
rupting the fidelity of your female slaves. They opened 
for me the most secret doors, and I succeeded in seeing 
that which no human beings, except you and I, have 
seen — viz. Novara asleep in the recesses of her chamber." 

' " You lie ! " cried the old man, advancing with clenched 
fist towards Luke Taleb. 

' " How lie ?" he answered. " Do you know this talis- 
man?" 

4 Luke Taleb took from his dress, where it lay by 
his heart, a necklet of large pearls, from the middle of 
which hung a gold signet, set in brilliants, with the seal 
of Solomon in the centre, traced in red enamel. 

( u Who wore this ?" exclaimed Kussul trembling, and 
not daring to follow up his suspicions. 

' " It was worn by the woman who lay there. Is not 
that so ? Well, then, when I went to detach it from her 
neck, your daughter awoke. But, strange to say, instead 
of crying out, and calling for help, Novara looked at me 
with a smile of love. It was written, — she was a woman 
fated to love anyone w T ho had in his hands that talis- 
man. I had it, and so " 

' " And God permitted it ! " said Kussul, hanging his 
head down, as if a thunderbolt had struck him. 



Over Volcanoes, 



i Luke Taleb laughed a mad laugh — a big laugh— a 
hideous laugh. He felt towards Kussul an African's 
hate ; and the taste of vengeance envenomed him. 

1 " But/' continued Luke Taleb, " what did I care for 
the beauty of this girl ? What good was her love to 
me, if I could not disgrace her ? I asked for a lock of 
hair, and she gave me her hair. Look at that hair — 
such a beautiful auburn that it puts the gold to shame. 
'Tis the hair of your daughter. But what was the use 
to me of a disgrace which could be erased by marriage ! 
It was a matter of necessity that I should bring her 
within the consequences of a breach of the law. The 
breach had been committed ; it was necessary that it 
should be exposed. My brother, who never lies, saw 
me leap the palings of your garden, and he has told 
this to everybody, for I bade him do so. But it is 
possible to love a woman in secret without impurity on 
her part. She may even receive a man alone, if he 
respects her. So I could not prove the crime, for the 
best evid-ix^e was wanting, and that nature withheld." 

' " Wretch ! " exclaimed the old Wali. 

' " Now, however," continued Luke Taleb, with deep 
significance, " it is done ! You have the favour of the 
king, which I, for the purpose of my vengeance, took 
care that you should have. Mohamet ebn Yucef has 
consented that I should marry your daughter, and I 
consented, because I possessed the means of rendering 
that marriage impossible." 

' " It is written," exclaimed Kussul, turning towards 
heaven a look full of desperation. 



' The Ctirse on Hins el Gibel! 305 

* " Would you like to see the present which I intended 
for my bride ?" exclaimed the pitiless Hagib. " Look, 
then!" 

* Luke Taleb took up a box of morocco leather, which 
he had placed on one of the sofas, and opened it. 
Within it there was a dagger, with a gold pommel, the 
jewels on which were fouled with mould. " This is the 
dagger," said he, " with which you killed my father, 
Kussul. The dagger was found by one of our old 
servants on the day after your crime. I sought these 
loyal soldiers, and I found them. They told me the 
misfortune of my father, without knowing that I was his 
son, and I did not choose to tell them. Do you know 
why ? It was because my father sought justice from the 
king, and it was denied to him ; because my father 
rose in rebellion, and was defeated ; because my father, 
reduced to beggary, tried to kill you, and was impaled ; 
because the name of my father was that of a beggar, a 
bandit, a rebel ; because the name of my father w r ould 
have dishonoured me, and have enabled you to escape 
my fury. And all this is your doing. So I concealed 
the fact of my parentage. I had acquired other parents 
in Africa ; and I acquired this poniard to kill you. 
I succeeded in obtaining from the king Hins el Gibel, 
so that in it I may tell the spirit of my father that his 
revenge is satisfied ; that in it — in the very spot where 
my mother was dishonoured, and my sister sold, your 
daughter may be dragged to infamy." 

'"Novara, Novara!" exclaimed the old man; "it is 
impossible — God will not permit this — it is a frightful 

X 



306 



Over Volcanoes. 



lie. This talisman must be a dream of Satan. No, 
no, no— God cannot permit this ! " And the eyes of 
Kussul turned in their sockets. 

i " Look for your daughter ; look for her !" cried Luke 
Taleb, carried away by the joy of his revenge. " Look 
for her ; and, if you don't find her in your house, it will 
be clear that she has fled with a lover — that she has 
been guilty of impurity— and 'I shall marry Fatima ! " 

* " Carried off!" cried Kussul. 

' " Yes ; whilst you were counting your miserable 
sequins, and the Katob was making the marriage 
writings, a young gallant entered your house, through 
your gardens, laid open by the slaves whom my money 
had bribed. That gallant was my brother Almanzur." 

' Kussul did not listen to another word ; he flew 
away towards his harem ; he passed through its galleries 
and chambers, and entered a magnificent apartment, 
which told him, at the first look, his fate. It was one of 
those most lovely rooms, in which, amongst gold and 
silk and perfumes, the Arab guards the beauty of his 
wives. 

' All of wealth and of precious things which the 
Eastern taste had invented was to be found there, 
sparkling in every direction, seemingly without order, 
but everywhere present. The walls were ornamented 
with filagree-work, the borders of which were inscriptive 
wreaths of love-mottoes. On these walls, too, were 
mirrors of silver. They had also tapestry and brocade. 
Golden cages, too, contained birds of rich plumage and 
melodious songs. On the ceiling were precious woods, 



1 The Curse on Hins el Gibel! 



307 



worked and inlaid with mother-of-pearl, ebony, rubies, 
and sandal. Hanging from the ceiling by gilded 
chains were agate lamps of quaint forms, from which, 
fed with aromatic oil, a languid light shone. On the 
floor were Indian carpets of silk and gold, with rich 
adornment and brilliant colours.' 

1 How much more is there of this upholstering of - the 
Alhambra?' said the Senior. 

* About ten more lines/ exclaimed the clergyman. 

* Suppose we skip them, then ?' suggested the Senior. 
The clergyman did so, and went on : ' When Kussul 

entered this chamber he scanned it with such a look 
as a lioness might give when she returns to her 
lair, from which she fears her whdps have been taken. 
He advanced recklessly, overturning in his way furni- 
ture and priceless ornaments. He sought Novara in 
every direction. Without a word, he penetrated into 
the sleeping apartment, the oratory, the bath-room. 
He ran through all those most beautiful apartments of 
which this bijou palace was made up, and he did not 
find her. Then he called her in loud tones, howling in 
his desperation. Only Echo answered him. He turned 
to enter the first chamber, and saw in it Luke Taleb 
alone, who looked at him with the mad joy of satisfied 
revenge glowing on his face. All that happened seemed 
a dream, and Kussul fell on the couch, uttering terrible 
peals of laughter. 

4 Kussul ebn Amer had gone mad. 

- Luke Taleb, having closed all the doors, approached 
him. 



3 o8 



Over Volcanoes. 



1 " You are in my power, Kussul," said the Hagib, 
holding in his right hand that dagger with the stains on 
it, which he had taken from the contract box. " You are 
in my power, for the women of your daughter have 
fled with her, and your men are too far off to hear your 
cries. ,, 

1 " Novara, Novara, Novara ! " exclaimed the old man, 
raising himself up, and crying despairingly for the girl. 

1 " Novara is in my castle of Hins el Gibel," said Luke 
Taleb, " where I will go and look for her, when I have 
settled with you." These words he uttered gloomily. 

' " Satan speaks by your mouth," cried Kussul, in a 
frenzy ; " Satan, who is resolved that your blood shall 
be shed under my roof. But so let it be, assassin 1 
robber ! coward ! Go and join your father." Uttering 
a horrible laugh, Kussul drew his scimitar, and attacked 
Luke Taleb. 

i The Hagib gave a tigers leap to avoid the old man's 
assault. Then winding his cloak round his arm, he 
attacked in his turn. The struggle was terrible — like a 
fight between a lion and a panther, and nothing ' 

'Is there a long description of the fight?' asked the 
Senior. 

' Very,' replied the clergyman. 
Skip again, then, please/ cried the Senior ; ' let's have 
the end.' 

The clergyman did as he was asked. 

' All of a sudden, Kussul gave a shout of joy ; his 
scimitar, passing through an unprotected spot, had 
come straight on the breast of Luke Taleb ; but the 



1 The Curse on Hins el Gibel! 309 



point found a shield there, and just then the Hagib 
pierced the breast of Kussul with a poniard stroke. 

' Kussul turned, staggered an instant, and then fell. 

'The talisman necklet of Novara, placed on the 
breast of Luke Taleb, had turned the steel of Kussul, 
and had saved his foe's life. 

' " Wali," exclaimed Luke Taleb, approaching Kussul, 
" I have sworn to the ghost of my father to wipe out 
his dishonour in the dishonour of the race of his 
assassin ; and your daughter is dishonoured. I pro- 
mised the shade of my mother to pour blood on the 
head of him who made her a widow ; and your blood is 
flowing. Assassin, robber, wretch ! Satan awaits you." 

' And he raised his poniard again to despatch Kussul. 

1 " Yes, yes," exclaimed the Wali, turning himself on 
the ground, " eternal fire awaits me ; but you will ac- 
company me there, for God curses the incestuous." 

1 Luke Taleb let fall the dagger, and fell on his knees, 
by the old man who was breathing his last. 

1 " Novara ?" cried the Hagib, " who is Novara ? " 

1 " Novara is . Azorah," Kussul answered, making an 
effort " Novara is the daughter of Abu Hiram and of 
Zarah. The woman you dishonoured is your own 
sister, Hagib, and God will avenge me." 

' After this last effort made by Kussul to pronounce 
these terrible words, his head sank, and he fell on the 
floor. There was a fearful choking," his eyes turned # in 
their sockets with a diabolical expression, and Kussul 
was dead. 

1 Luke Taleb gazed at him for a moment with a fixed 



Over Volcanoes. 



look of wonder. Then he felt a dread of being so near 
that cursed corpse. All the things round him were 
spotted with blood. 

' In short/ concluded the clergy man, 1 he rode to 
Hins el Gibel, and was killed by Almanzur, his own 
brother, who then possessed himself of the talisman, 
and afterwards married Azorah, his own sister. For 
w r hich crime he and his, being the ancestors of Juan 
Tenorio by the mother's side, were cursed to the third 
and fourth generation.' 

1 Thank you/ said the Senior ; ' perhaps some day you 
will let us know how it was that Don Juan's father 
achieved his curse.' 

' That tale is equally horrible and still more in- 
teresting/ replied the clergyman ; 1 but now we must 
get ready for dinner.' 



At Gerona. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

AT GERONA. 

On Gerona and the country between it and Barcelona, 
the Junior Partner wrote a long and, as he hoped, a 
striking chapter. For Gerona, highly interesting in 
itself, was also our last halting-place in Spain. He 
had then described the river, in which, contrary to 
Peninsular custom, there is running water. He had 
^painted in graphic language the picturesque houses, 
whose foundations form the banks of the stream on each 
side, after the style of Venice. He had photographed in 
vivid words the grand but half-finished Cathedral, with 
its flight of many steps, its incongruous facade (of the 
year 171 2), its unrivalled breadth of span, its superb 
height, and gorgeous windows. Nor had he neglected 
to dwell on the quaint streets and the heavy arches, 
shadowing the foot-passengers, and enabling them to 
inspect with comfort the shop-windows, in a large pro- 
portion of which, for some reason or other, fire-arms and 
knives were exhibited for sale. The Fonda de Espaiia, 
too, had come in for a long notice — that strange old 
fonda, with its huge archway, its ajimez windows, and 
upstairs patio. All this work the Junior Partner had 



312 



Over Volcanoes. 



done con amore, and to his own satisfaction. So he 
flattered himself with the thought that this chapter at 
least would win the approbation of the critics, and more- 
over delight a little ladv in Crockshire. But successes 
of which one has made certain always elude the grasp. 
When the author of this book was at Harton School, he 
sometimes took particular pains with a copy of alcaics, 
and became (a state of mind not usual with schoolboys) 
proud of their rhythm. On these occasions his tutor, 
an excellent man, and a tolerable teacher of boys who 
required no teaching, used always to say, 1 Kingsman, 
these alcaics are bad, very bad ; you must take more 
pains, Kingsman.' And then Mr, Chopboy marked 
with his crosses of dishonour all those passages which 
had been most carefully elaborated. So it has been 
in after-life. Occasionally, the Junior Partner has per- 
formed the thankless duty of begging for subscrip- 
tions, and he has generally found that those persons from 
whom he expected the least gave him the most, and 
vice versa. Well, in the case of the Gerona chapter, his 
usual fate awaited him. He had done the description of 
the whole place honestly and thoroughly, even down to 
the singing of the nightingale in the formal and dusty, 
but very shady and pleasant, park on the other side of 
the river Oria. So nothing was wanting but the well- 
deserved applause. Happy, therefore, in his mind, the 
Junior was resting from his labours, and looking out in 
the street, when the Senior hailed him. 

'You remember/ said he, 'Mrs. Spring and her two 
daughters — John's ladies, as we called them ? ' 



At Gerona. 



313 



The Junior did recollect these ladies, but the feeling 
as regards one of them was not agreeable. He bore in 
mind the recollection that Miss Maryanne Spring, the 
elder of the two, had at first ogled and flattered 
him, and that she had finally become snappish, which, 
however, was, on the whole, a pleasant change. So the 
Junior replied that he had not forgotten John's ladies, 
and that he hoped they had found the 1 Darro ' and the 
1 Guadalete ' more satisfactory modes of travelling than 
these steamers had been to Stevens & Co. For John of 
Seville had sent Mrs. Spring and her daughters on the 
same long voyage which the Firm had found to be so 
unbearably odious. 

c I don't know/ said the Senior, 'how John's ladies fared 
on the Mediterranean, but they found their way some- 
how to Gerona.' 

1 1 hope they are not here now,' exclaimed the 
Junior. 

' No/ answ r ered the Senior, { but they have been here ; 
and behold the result of their visit/ Saying this, he pro- 
duced a bundle of papers and proceeded thus : — ' When 
we met Mrs. Spring and her daughters at Malaga, I re- 
member telling Miss Maryanne that we were writing a 
book of our travels, on which she at once offered to give 
us her aid. For this I felt grateful, since I believed that 
she proposed to buy a copy herself, and perhaps to 
recommend the work among her circle of acquaintance, 
which, as she assured me, was large and aristocratic. 
So I thanked her, and accepted her proffered services 
with cordiality. But I now find, from her letter and 



3H 



Over Volcanoes. 



this bundle, that she intended to do as I and the 
Cashier have done — that is, to supply a chapter or 
two. In fact, she has sent to us her whole diary, and 
has placed all of it at our disposal. I don't like to read 
to you her letter, for it might not be fair to her, and it 
would not be pleasant to you. But the gist of it is that 
she fears you have not paid sufficient attention to Spain, 
and that consequently you will not be able to give a 
satisfactory account of it' 

i She means/ replied the Junior, ' that I did not pay 
enough attention to her. But, sir, do you propose to 
supersede me in my work, and to accept her contribu- 
tions instead of mine ? ' 

' No/ replied the Senior. ' I don't, wish to do that, for 
her diary seems to be trash, and there is a good deal 
more in it about that Irishman, whom we met at Barce- 
lona, than of anything else. But she particularly wishes 
you to insert the chapter on Gerona, and she will be 
satisfied. So I suppose we must oblige her.' 

* But, sir/ said the Junior, 6 1 have spent especial pains 
on Gerona. It is a place which, above all others, re- 
quires careful and vigorous writing. Will it not satisfy 
her, then, if I select her description of some place, or 
places, which she has visited, and we have not, as Zara- 
goza, or Huesca, or Tudela ? ' 

'No,' replied the Senior, 'nothing but Gerona will 
do ; unless you choose to begin a correspondence with 
her/ 

' That I will not do/ cried the Junior ; 1 anything is 



At Gerona. 315 

better than that So give me the diary, and I will make 
the best of it.' Accordingly, the MS. of Miss Spring was 
handed over to the Junior, and it forms the next chap- 
ter, while his own was thrown into the fire. 



316 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

GERONA ; A LADY'S DIARY. 

' BEFORE I write about Gerona (says Miss Spring), which 
it is my intention to do, I must give a full and complete 
description of the wonderful monastery and magnificent 
scenery of Monserrat, which place we visited from Bar- 
celona. Monserrat, then, is ' [here follows the excellent 
account of Monserrat given in 1 Murray/ and, with some 
variations, also in O'Shea. Under these circumstances, 
it has not been thought necessary to repeat it, and the 
reader is referred to the first of these works for all par- 
ticulars]. As regards Gerona, Miss Spring is happily 
more original. Accordingly, her diary proceeded thus : — 
' And now, having bade farewell to the dear recluses of 
the jagged mountains, let me turn to Gerona. We 
arrived at that station in good time, and the journey from 
Barcelona was extremely pleasant. There were carriages 
waiting to receive the passengers, and our intention being 
to sojourn at the Fonda de la Estrella, recommended by 
Mr. Murray, we enquired for the conveyance belonging to 
that hotel. The name, however, seemed to be unknown, 
and they wanted us to go to the Fonda de Espana. I per- 
sisted, of course, speaking Spanish ; for as I know Italian, 



Gerona ; a Ladys Diary. 



it was easy enough to do that, and I still asked for the 
tartana connected with the Fonda de la Estrella. The 
people, however, were so stupid that they did not under- 
stand their own language, and I believe that we should 
have stayed at the station all day (for I was resolved to 
go to no other hotel) if a gentleman, whom we had met 
previously at Barcelona, had not come forward to help 
us. In my hurry, I spoke to him also in Spanish, although 
I knew that he w r as not a Spaniard, He understood me 
at once, of course, but he answered me in English, and 
told me that the Fonda de Espana was the Fonda de la 
Estrella, about which I had enquired. In fact, that the 
two were the same hotel. This I found afterwards was 
the case, and it is clear that any traveller who does not 
speak Spanish is likely to be much puzzled. On this 
occasion, as on many others, my knowledge of the lan- 
guage was most serviceable to us all, and I should 
recommend no one to go to Spain unless he can express 
himself fluently in Castilian. But I must return to the 
gentleman w r ho had come to my assistance. He was so 
attentive and obliging that I asked Mamma to invite him 
to dine with us, and I reminded her that we had been 
introduced to him at Barcelona. But Mamma talked 
some nonsense about the introduction having been in- 
formal (as if formalities were required on the Continent), 
and she hesitated. So I asked him myself. Accord- 
ingly, we dined at the table dhote together, and Mr. 
O'Donogood (for that was his name) sat on my left 
side. It is astonishing how intimate one becomes with 
some people, And yet there seems no reason for the 



31 8 Over Volcanoes. 

friendship. With the exception of Barcelona and Malaga, 
Mr. O'Donogood had not visited the places which- I 
have seen ; nor did he know any of the people with 
whom I am intimate, nor had he read the books which 
I like. But nevertheless there was a certain mysterious 
magnetic sympathy between us which is more easily felt 
than described. Of English literature he told me 
frankly that he had not read much, which I found to be 
the case. For he had not heard of the " Ann Tott " 
by Miss Maryanne Spring, which tale is pretty well 
known. Of course, he promised to buy a copy, having 
been much struck by an extract which I remembered 
and repeated to him. He regretted that he had given 
so little time to English, but he had been so fascinated, 
as he said, by the light literature of the Jews, and 
was so deep in their books, that he read very little 
else. In the course of conversation, he informed me of a 
curious fact, namely, that M. Scribe, the French drama- 
tist, was a Jew, and that his farces were originally com- 
posed in Hebrew. One might have judged this from the 
name Scribe, which seems to have been as common in 
the time of Pontius Pilate as Smith is now. But one 
never thinks of these things until some intelligent and 
well-informed person points them out. 

' So the dinner, with its six courses, of which fish was 
in the middle, passed off pleasantly ; and, after it was 
finished, we strolled out to observe the features and 
doings of Gerona. I found that Mr. O'Donogood knew 
the place thoroughly ; and I thought myself fortunate in 
having secured such a cicerone. It seemed, however, 



Gerona ; a Ladys Diary. 319 

that he did not care much for the wonderful old houses 
and charming cloisters, which are not confined to the 
Cathedral precincts, but also line many of the streets. I 
told him that George Street had given me an excellent 
idea of Gerona before I saw it, and he quite agreed 
with me. I fear, however, that he did not completely 
understand me at first, for he proceeded to say that, 
although George Street had some features similar to the 
streets of Gerona, still it was on the whole much finer, 
that the houses were handsomer, and the shops better 
arranged. It appears that he was not thinking of 
George Street the Architect, but of a street in Windsor. 
We laughed heartily at the mistake which had been 
made, and became better friends every minute. I 
could have wished, however, that he had not been so 
fascinated with the shops, for we rather wasted time at 
them ; but it could not be helped. So we inspected the 
fire-arms and the sticks, and went into several confec- 
tioners', which abound at Gerona. So we enjoyed our- 
selves thoroughly, and I felt that I knew Gerona well, 
and that I never should forget it. We parted with 
Mr. O'Donogood at the Fonda de Espana ; and I should 
be sorry if I thought that we were never to meet again. 
But there is no fear that this will be the case, for he 
enquired very particularly about me and my family. 
He seemed quite pleased with the photograph of our 
house, and sympathised in the loss of my dear brother, 
rejoicing that he had not left a widow and family behind 
him to feel the sad bereavement. Moreover, he promised 
faithfully to come and visit us on his return to England. 



320 



Over Volcanoes. 



So I should have felt sure of seeing him again, under 
any circumstances, but a little incident happened which 
brought us into still more close and intimate connection 
with each other. For he came to us very early the next 
morning, and informed me privately that he had just 
received a telegram, which obliged him to go to Madrid 
at once ; " and at Gerona," he added, " there is no bank 
where I can get Courts' circular notes cashed." I confess 
that I was glad to find that he banked with Courts ; for 
that in itself would have stamped him as a gentleman. 
So I begged him to accept twenty-five pounds, which I 
happened to have by me ; and he pressed my hand in 
return — at least, I thought that lie did so. In a few 
days I received a beautiful letter, in which he thanked 
me for trusting him, and said that he would pay me when 
he visited us at Spring Hall. So of course we shall see 
him. He also told me that the first time he had met 
me at Barcelona, he had been struck by my appearance, 
and had made up his mind that my name must be Rosa. 
He had been so sure of this, he added, that he had 
written a few verses in Castilian, addressed to me under 
that name. These he has sent ; and, as they are very 
pretty, and, moreover, show what a mastery over Spanish 
can be obtained by an educated Englishman, I will add 
them to my account of Gerona. I must, however, sug- 
gest, for the benefit of those unacquainted with Spanish, 
that Nina is not a ninny, but a young girl. Perhaps I 
should also say that Mr. O'Donogood's Christian name 
is Augustus, which, in Spanish, is Agost : — 



Gerona ; a Ladys Diary. 321 

A UNA NINA QUE TE UNA ROSA EN CADA GALTA. 

Cada any ab la primavera 
Neix la flor per mori 'I Juny, 

Y las mes voltas, ni passa 
Del join mateix qu' ha nascut. 

Vas neixe tu fa setz' anys, 

Y ab tu las flors de tas galtas 
Que 1 sol del Agost no crema 
Ni ; 1 fret del Janer no mata. 

Sempre frescas, sempre bellas, 
Bessant de flaires suaus, 
Son com las rosas que 's badan 
A trench d' auba tot lo Maig.' 

With these verses the Diary of Miss Spring came to 
an end ; and the Junior must honestly confess that he 
could make nothing of them at first. Of course, he saw 
that they were not Spanish; and he suspected that 
Mr. O'Donogood had evolved them out of the depths of 
his consciousness, in a language of his own. But it 
turned out that the Irishman had adopted a still easier 
method of composition, for he had cut the lines out of 
a newspaper written in the patois of Catalonia. He 
must have had wonderful confidence in the vanity and 
ignorance of his Maryanne. But it was well founded. 
And let us hope that he will repay her the twenty-five 
pounds when he has married her, for he certainly will 
not do it before, 



Y 



322 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XLV. 

AN EXPERIENCE IN THE STREETS. 

The streets of Gerona, as indeed generally in Spain, are 
very narrow ; and the diligence for Perpignan, with its 
six horses, three abreast, seemed to fill all the space 
between the Fonda de Espana and the opposite houses. 
But no sooner had the huge vehicle got under way, 
amid the valedictions of all the beggars of the place, 
than a w r aggon of equal dimensions appeared ap- 
proaching to meet it. That the two should pass each 
other seemed impossible, but it was clear that the 
attempt would be made ; and so the flank of the near 
wheeler of the diligence became jammed against the 
front wheel of the waggon. This, naturally enough, set 
the mare kicking; and, just behind her heels, in the coupi y 
was the Senior Partner. However, the animal was soon 
subdued by the volley of imprecations hurled at her 
head, and became quiet But her struggles had, in the 
meantime, upset the middle wheeler, who was sprawling 
in the street, having snapped the reins in falling. 
Down came the heavy lash on the prostrate beast, who 
rose at once, but fell again immediately ; and this pro- 
cess was repeated half-a-dozen times at least, until it 



An Experience in the Streets. 



323 



became evident that success, under this course of pro- 
ceeding, was impossible. So a consultation was held. 
In most countries which are civilised, the team, under 
the circumstances above related, would have been un- 
harnessed, and the animal on the ground would then 
have risen to his legs without difficulty. Indeed, it 
seemed as if this plan would be pursued, for a man 
began to finger the tackle. But it soon became apparent 
that his only object was to mend the reins, which he did 
with a knife and a bit of string, while the wheeler still 
lay struggling. After that the plan of operations de- 
veloped itself ; for the ostlers belaboured the three 
leaders, while the driver served the wheelers in the same 
way ; and the middle wheeler, which still lay on the 
ground, just in front of the junior Partner, was thus 
dragged on. Of course, under this treatment, he did his 
best to get up ; but no sooner did he succeed in his 
efforts than he was overturned, and it seemed more 
probable that he would drag down his companions than 
that he would recover himself. But still the driver and the 
ostlers persisted. So through the street of Gerona the 

J. o 

poor beast was drawn, and no one cried shame. Down 
he fell, and up he came again^ until it seemed impos- 
sible that a limb should remain unbroken. But at last, 
by a tremendous effort, he did regain his legs com- 
pletely, and then the diligence pulled up. By this time 
the horse was half dead, and seemed about to fall from 
sheer exhaustion, but he leaned against the pole, and so 
saved himself from a repetition of the same rough treat- 
ment which he had experienced. A mozo now brought 

Y 2 



324 



Over Volcanoes. 



a bucketful of water, and threw the contents over the 
head of the maldito caballo y who was thus saved from 
fainting, or, perhaps, dying. In a few minutes he was 
considered fit for work ; and, after that, he did his ten 
miles as well as any horse in the team. 

i That stallion has fine courage,' said the Senior ; ' but 
when they once get him into the stable he will never 
come out again alive, for his knees must be frightfully 
mangled.' In this opinion the Cashier and the Junior 
fully concurred ; but, strange to say, when the team 
was changed at a venta by the roadside, and all the 
horses were eating their grass in the great barn, it was 
impossible to tell which of them had been dragged 
through Gerona. That the stallion should have escaped 
with so little injury was marvellous ; for the streets of 
Gerona are roughly paved with big stones, but no doubt 
this was better for the animal than a macadamised 
road. At all events, the horse, so far as could be per- 
ceived, was entirely uninjured. After this nothing 
happened until the diligence arrived at Figueras, which 
is said to be the strongest fortress in the world. And 
not much happened there, only a hobbledehoy, who 
ought to have known better, evinced a desire to bombard 
the strangers with stones ; which attack, however, was 
promptly repressed by the lookers-on, who, in turns, argued 
the matter out The boy apparently obtained the victory 
in the conflict of words, for the contest ended invariably 
in his being cuffed. He must, indeed, have had great 
power of reasoning, for his cause was certainly, on the face 
of it, indefensible. However, all the voyagers were glad 



An Experience in the Streets. 



325 



to leave Figueras without a volley, and Stevens & Co, 
registered a hope that for the future all belligerents 
may be restrained by the better sense of the bystanders. 
Into Perpignan the travellers drove in the twilight of the 
evening, and out of it in the twilight of the next 
morning. So of this frontier tow r n of France, and 
famous citadel, no description can be given. Nor of 
Lyons either, although the stay there was longer. 



326 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XLVL 

OFF THE VOLCANOES. 

LEAVING Lyons by an early train, the travellers came at 
midday to St. Louis, on the Swiss frontier, thus passing 
off those volcanoes, over which they had been treading 
for the previous seven weeks. 

' The emetite at Lyons is fixed for next Sunday/ said 
an Italian with whom we had journeyed on the previous 
day, and now again. 

1 I wish them joy of their work/ cried the Senior ; 'for 
my part, I am glad to be in Switzerland, a country which 
values the blessings of peace at home and abroad/ 

This sentiment the Junior and Cashier cordially re- 
ciprocated. It was, indeed, pleasant to be amongst 
people whose institutions, both civil and military, are so 
good that they might be taken as a model for the 
imitation of the rest of the world. At St. Louis, then, 
the journey and the book really came to an end. 

After this, there was much to see, and much worth 
recording also, but all foreign to the purpose in hand. 
There was Geneva — glaring, palatial, shoppy. There 
was Berne — with its statues, its ramparts, and its bears, 
all telling a tale of feudal times — times less happy even 



Off the Volcanoes. 



327 



than the present, bad as they are. Then there was 
Basle — more than half German ; and Strasburg, wholly 
German once more — Strasburg, with its Cathedral badly 
wounded in the late fray ; Strasburg, with the statue of 
Kleber, still uninjured, but looking indignant at the 
Museum on its right hand, a building gutted with shells. 
Then there was Nancy — heavily battered, but still 
bright and lovely, like one of the German cities over 
which a Grossherzog used to reign supreme. Above all, 
there was Metz — Metz, till lately, a maiden fortress, and 
ruined only by the multitude of its pretended defenders ; 
Metz, with that famous statue, the noble inscription 
on which (no idle boast) must have made Bazaine blush. 
And then there was Thionville — half destroyed by its 
enemies ; and the fortress of Luxembourg, in process 
of demolition by its Dutch possessors, to the great 
relief of its German citizens. 

What books might be written on all these places ! — 
places interesting at any time, and doubly interesting 
since the last great war. But this book only treats of 
volcanoes in operation, or those which threaten eruptions ; 
with volcanoes extinct it has nothing to do. And in 
Alsace they are extinct, at least, for the; present ; nor 
is there any reason to believe that they will soon be in 
action again, for the hand of Germany is there, and the 
hand of Germany is of iron. 

But here it may be permissible to say something of 
that victorious army which, in such a short time, subdued 
France — France, which had once waged war with all the 
world, and not without some success. Seen at St. Valery, 



328 



Over Volcanoes. 



Abbeville, Amiens, Rouen, Strasburg, Schelestadt, Mul- 
liausen, and Metz, the forces of Deutschland looked 
always the same, and always superb. Nothing could be 
better than the equipment of horse, foot, and artillery, 
all of which seemed to be ready for any work, at a mo- 
ment's notice. And what a contrast did these troops 
offer to the red-legged, gaitered and petticoated French, 
who were coming back from captivity to obtain (accord- 
ing to M. Thiers) immortal glory, by taking Paris — from 
the Parisians. 

But, if the rank and file of Germany was a grand 
sight, what shall be said of the officers ! Unlike some 
of our captains and lieutenant-colonels of the Guards, 
they were worthy of their men, and could afford to march 
abreast with the grenadier company of any regiment in 
the world. And this verdict is not influenced by fear, nor 
by favour. Certainly not by the latter, for the Firm of 
Stevens & Co. owes no gratitude to these giants of 
battle ; on the contrary, had the English tradesmen 
been disposed to take offence, their backs might have 
been set up many times. For these officers of the Ger- 
man army would not permit one of the Members of the 
Firm to walk. behind them on the pavement at Amiens, 
nor did they choose to have any of them at the same 
table with their mightinesses at Amiens or Rouen ; nor 
to dine at the same hour at Mulhausen or Strasburg. 
In fact, they made them feel habitually that they, by 
the side of these Vons, were very small people indeed. 
But in spite of any irritation which might arise from 
this sort of treatment, it was impossible to be blind 



Off the Volcanoes. 329 

to their merits, moral and physical, when regarded 
as leaders of men. The first was proved by intelligent 
and manly countenances, which bore no mark either of 
idleness or dissipation. The latter point was still more 
easily settled. The Members of Stevens & Co. are, like 
all other heroes, rather above than below the middle 
height And as they stood at twelve o'clock to watch 
the Apostolic figures, moving by clockwork in the 
Cathedral of Strasburg, with soldiers from all parts of 
Deutschland around them, none of the rank and file, 
excepting the White Cuirassiers, towered over their 
heads. But whenever any Member of the Firm came 
across a German officer, the Englishman felt himself to 
be a pigmy. The general was Herculean ; the colonel 
Herculean; the subaltern Herculean — all Herculean. 
The general was handsome ; the colonel handsome ; 
the subaltern handsome — all handsome. And then the 
heartiness and the manliness which seemed to prevail 
amongst them ! The light blue of Bavaria would meet 
the dark blue of Prussia, or the olive brown of Wurtem- 
berg, or the rifle green of Hanover, and then a frater- 
nisation took place. First a few words were spoken, 
then there was a clink of glasses, next a hearty laugh, 
and last of all, a J a ! ja ! ja ! This completed the bond 
of union, and was repeated over and over again. The 
sound was not pretty, but it was highly expressive. 
Yes ! yes ! yes ! Germany had conquered France, and 
was a united and mighty nation for ever. 

' Very formidable enemies,' said the Senior. 

'And very useful friends,' replied the Cashier; 'friends 



33° 



Over Volca?zoes. 



of England and of peace, if we treat them uprightly, 
and don't attempt to interfere in their affairs — which we 
are not likely to do.' 

' But/ suggested the Senior, 1 the nobles and members 
of the reigning families in Germany are like Goliath, 
not only in stature, but also in being men of war from 
their youth. So it is to be feared that they will be ready 
to pick quarrels with anyone, and ride roughshod over 
the world.' 

' Possibly,' replied the Cashier, ( these may be the 
wishes of the classes to which you refer, but they will 
never be able to take Germany with them into the field, 
except when the cause is righteous, and then they will 
not be easily beaten.' 

6 And see how they behave as conquerors,' said the 
Junior. 1 At Strasburg not a word could be said by 
the Alsatians against any of the troops except the 
Polacks and the Badeners.' 

* ' And think,' added the Cashier, ' how the French 
would have behaved if they had dictated a peace at 
Berlin!' 

' Ay,' cried the Senior, 1 they would have avenged 
Waterloo then. At all events, they would have tried' 

' Yes,' said the Cashier ; ' you are right. This would 
have happened, although Napoleon is regarded by some 
silly people as the friend of England. Indeed, I think 
that at one time there was no work so worthy of a wise 
Englishman as to warn his countrymen against regard- 
ing as a friend that man who was disposed to take us 
to Mexico, and so to bring us into a quarrel with the 



Off the Volcanoes. 



States. But there is no necessity for arguing this point 
now, since Bonaparte is fallen. Once his favours seemed 
capable of making and unmaking kings, but now they 
are of no value except to a few fashionable people in 
London, and the butchers and bakers of Chiselhurst. 
Let us be thankful/ 

'Amen!' said the Junior and the Senior. To which 
the latter added : ' And let us hope that the French of 
the future will condescend to be guided by the sensible 
example of the Swiss/ 



332 



Over Volcanoes. 



CHAPTER XLVIL 

THE JUNIOR CASHIERED. 

It pleased the Senior to travel from Brussels to Ironham 
in one flight, which was done accordingly ; and the 
fatigue of this journey may perhaps account for the 
catastrophe which followed. At all events, the good- 
humour which had prevailed among the travellers during 
many eventful weeks ended with the return to England. 
And this book was the cause of all the quarrelling. 
On arriving at Dover, the Senior remarked that it would 
be necessary now to make some final arrangements 
about publishing it. ' For/ said he, * the book shall be 
published now ; and, what is more, it shall sell. So 
I will tell you my plans, which are as follows, and 
well worth hearing, for I flatter myself that I have 
invented a new sort of advertising, by which I propose 
to utilise a section of society which I have hitherto 
regarded as nearly useless. Both of you, no doubt, 
recollect the Honourable Captain Macduffer, who is 
stationed at Ironham with his regiment, and who often 
comes to my house ?' 

The brow of the Junior grew dark. 

The Senior continued : ' Well, I can't make much 



The Junior Cashiered. 



000 



of him, I confess; but Mrs. Stevens tells me that he is 
the most good-natured creature, and that she can get 
him to do just as she likes. Which being the case, I 
propose that she shall induce him to obtain leave of 
absence from his regiment, and spend next season in 
London. Being there, and of course mixing in the best 
society, I intend him to talk of nothing but Stevens 
& Co. — our book, " Over Volcanoes," I mean, of course, 
for the trade needs no puffing. Besides this, I mean 
also that he shall subscribe to every library in the 
metropolis, and ask for that work at every one of them. 
In fact, he shall be an aristocrat with a board on his 
back — speaking metaphorically, of course — and I shall 
pay him well. 1 

The Junior burst out laughing, and the Cashier was 
evidently much inclined to join in the mirth. 

The Senior was nettled, but not deterred. ' What is 
your objection to my proposal ? J he asked. 

To this the Junior replied very unadvisedly: 'Even if I 
supposed it possible that the Honourable Captain Mac- 
duffer would consent to play such an ignominious part, I 
would not permit him to do so in connection with a book 
of mine. In fact/ he added, ' I wish to have as little as 
possible to do with that gentleman ; and I cannot help 
regarding his intimacy with your wife and daughter 
as a great misfortune, for he is an idle and worthless 
fortune-hunter.' 

The Senior stared in astonishment. The Junior had 
borne so many rubs from him previously that this rebel- 
lion was unexpected. But there are occasions when 



334 Over Volcanoes. 

even the wisest act foolishly, and the junior has never- 
set up any claim to wisdom. Ke sees, indeed, now, 
that he made an impertinent remark, and that he 
deserved the punishment which befell him. But the 
punishment was severe ; for the Senior said : 'I see, sir, 
that I must remind vou of some things which you seem to 
have forgotten. The first is, that you have no connec- 
tion with my family ; and the second, that your connec- 
tion with my business is terminable, during the current 
year of your probation, at my pleasure. I desire, there- 
fore, that your present position in the Firm shall come 
to an end ; and I can assure you that the insult which 
you have just offered to me has not led to that conclu- 
sion, but rather a conviction that you are not fitted for 
business.' 

The Cashier tried to interfere, but unsuccessfully. 

* I really mean, 5 continued the angry Senior, 'just 
what I say. He is no man of business. How did he 
act when we were buying photographs at Madrid ? Why, 
he let us pay just double the price which the same 
articles had cost us in France. And when I told him to 
ask for discount, he did not know what the Spanish 
word for discount was. A tradesman, and not be able 
to ask for discount ! What do you think of that, sir ? 
eh ? So I, who don't know a word of Spanish, had to 
take the thing in hand, and to knock off twenty per 
cent., which I did. Then, what did he do at Cordova ? 
Why, he wanted to go twice to that mosque (which, after 
all, is only a collection of Moorish cloisters) before he 
would walk with us and attend to the very business 



The Junior Cashiered. 335 

which brought us to Spain. And when we did find out 
the leading firm in our trade, what did he know about 
cork ? I was positively ashamed of his ignorance. 
Then again at Granada. You and I saw a beautiful 
old cabinet at the quarters of Lieut. -Colonel Valera, 
and we asked him the price. " Eighty pounds," said 
that officer. We wanted to offer fifty. But this fine 
gentleman here, who is for telling me how to choose my 
friends and acquaintances, would not have anything to 
do with knocking down the price of an artillery colonel 
on full pay ; and so he acquainted us that we must 
either give the eighty pounds or else go without the 
cabinet. But we've got the cabinet, and we did not pay 
anything like eighty pounds. In fact, we found, as you 
know, that the colonel was a regular man of business, 
and that he would have sold all the furniture in his 
house by Dutch auction,, if we had pressed him. Then, 
as to the money of Spain, our interpreter there was just 
as ignorant, and I don't believe that he knows to this day 
how manv reals are in an Isabellino. Xor was he any 
better informed about weights and measures. Indeed, 
Mr. Cashier, I am sure that you, who did not profess to 
know anything of Spain before you came here, know 
much more about it now than he does. And then to 
think of him claiming our book — Stevens & Co.'s book — 
as his own, when you and I have written the onlv solid 
parts of it, and I was ready to insure its sale. But I 
will say no more.' 

Then, turning to me, he added: 'Your interest, sir, 
in the Firm of Stevens & Co. is over; and my interest 



Over Volcanoes. 



in the book " Over Volcanoes " is in the same position, I 
suppose. I wish you joy, then, of your prospects, and 
success in your undertaking. But my own affairs I can 
manage for myself ; and although I shall not employ the 
Honourable Captain Macduffer, as I proposed, he will 
always be a welcome visitor at my house, and if I choose 
to make him a partner after all, he could not be less 
efficient than you have been.' 

And this was the return for all the attention which 
the Junior had bestowed on the Senior Partner. This 
the gratitude to him for getting up every morning as 
soon as it w r as light to write the book, the composition 
of which the Senior had ordered. This the reward for 
calling him regularly, so that he might not miss the 
train ; for humouring him in every way and at all times. 
One hasty and foolish word, prompted by jealousy, had 
cancelled all the good services of weeks. But there was 
no help at present. So the two Partners went to Iron- 
ham, and the ejected one went his way also in another 
direction. * 



The Junior Rested. — Conclusion. 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

THE JUNIOR RESTORED. — CONCLUSION. 

THERE was nothing now to be done, except to work at 
that book which had brought such misfortune on its 
author. And, by the bye, among the manifold losses 
which the anger of the Senior had involved, was the 
necessity for dropping this designation of Junior, and 
for adopting the first person singular. However, there 
is not much more to be written, happily; and the en- 
forced egotism of a few pages may be forgiven. 

Unwilling, then, to face my old friends and acquaint- 
ances under the altered circumstances, I retreated to 
that refuge of the distressed, an English watering-place. 
And the spot to which I drifted was so far appropriate 
for one who had ventured to give some account of Spain, 
that Philip the Handsome and Juana la Loca had once 
been shipwrecked on its shores. There, then, with his 
MSS. around him, the writer of these pages domiciled 
himself. And let it be confessed that his first impulse 
was to throw the unlucky papers which had ruined him 
into the fire. But it is not easy to take this murderous 
step with the children of one's own brain. It is hard to 
do this when they have been condemned by all the 

z 



Over Volcanoes. 



Doctors of the Row as unfit to live. But it is almost im- 
possible to act in this infanticidal way while hope suggests 
that the work may be accepted by the first house to 
which it is offered. So the labour of transcribing went 
on, and brought with it such pleasant recollections of 
sunny days, that the subsequent misfortune was some- 
times almost forgotten, But when the task was over, 
then came the reaction, and the Chisel Bank and Dead 
Man's Bay, which have not been lively places since the 
davs of George III., seemed very dismal indeed. 

But then an incident happened which changed the 
current of my thoughts. For walking one day on the 
parade, I met a couple, evidently just married, both of 
whom saluted me. It was — well, it was not my little 
Anne with the Cashier, nor with anyone else, but it 
was Miss Spring (or, rather, the ex-Miss Spring), with 
Mr. O'Donogood. She was so happy that she even 
forgot to enquire about her contribution to my book, 
and she devoted herself solely to showing off her hand- 
some husband, who played his part very well. 

When the short interview was over, I began to reflect 
that Mr. O'Donogood was, after all, a wiser man than 
myself. For he, with little to recommend him, had suc- 
ceeded in srettincf a wife, while I had not ventured to 
ask for my little Anne, but had given her up tamely, in 
consequence of a quarrel upon a subject with which she 
had no concern. The result of these reflections was a 
sudden departure for Ironham. Much of that which 
happened there is foreign to the purpose of this book. 
It will be enough to state that Mr. Stevens, when I 



The Junior Restored, — Conclusion. 339 

asked him for his daughter, said, first, that she was too 
young to be married. Upon which he was informed by 
his wife that she, Mrs. Stevens, had married him at a 
still earlier age. Next, he suggested that there was too 
great disparity between the years of the proposed bride- 
groom and his intended wife. But here, again, he was 
informed, on the same authority, that the like disparity 
had existed in his own case. At this second rebuff he 
began to be angry, and the state of affairs looked bad. 
But just then the Cashier entered with Anne her- 
self. To him the Senior Partner said : ' This gentleman 
here has asked me for my daughter ; what reply am I 
to make ? ' 

' If I might venture to advise, I should say, Accept 
him by all means/ answered the kind Cashier. 

' Do you really mean that ? ' enquired the Senior, 
closely eyeing his partner. 

< Indeed I do/ replied he earnestly. 

' Well/ sighed the Senior, ' I wish that things had 
turned out otherwise ; but since you, Mr. Cashier, are 
for this match, I will not oppose it ; and, Anne/ added 
he, turning to his daughter, who was covered with con- 
fusion, ' there will be a Granada for you soon, I 
suppose/ 

' 1 should like nothing better/ cried Anne, thinking 
that this referred to her wedding tour, and not in the 
least understanding the allusion to a future daughter of 
the Junior Partner to be called by that name, as had 
been settled at Granada. 

But all this is not to the purpose ; and therefore let 



340 Over Volcanoes. 



there be no more of it. This book is not devoted to 
courtships and marriages, whatever the next may be. 
So it shall stick to its point, in spite of all temptations 
to diverge, and be at the end, as at the beginning, 
' Over Volcanoes ' on business. 



LONDON I PRINTED BY 
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE t ^ 
AND PARLIAMENT STREET 



1 



/ 



340 



Religious \ — Catholicism. 



and fashioned there, and then comes out from them as, in one 
sense, its source and its parent. The divine word is begotten in 
them, and the offspring has their features and tells of them. They 
are not like the "dumb animal, speaking with man's voice," on 
which Balaam rode, a mere instrument of God's word, but they 
have " received an unction from the Holy One, and they know all 
things," and " where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty 
and while they deliver what they have received, they enforce what 
they feel and know. " We have known and believed" says St. 
John, " the charity which God hath to us." 

So has it been all through the history of the Church ; Moses 
does not write as David ; nor Isaias as Jeremias ; nor St. John as 
St. Paul. And so of the great Doctors of the Church, St. Atha- 
nasius, St. Augustine, St. Ambrose, St. Leo, St. Thomas, each 
has his own manner, each speaks his own words, though he 
speaks the while the words of God. They speak from themselves, 
they speak in their own persons, they speak from the heart, from 
their own experience, with their own arguments, with their own 
deductions, with their own modes of expression. How can you 
fancy such hearts, such feelings to be unholy? how could it be so, 
without defiling, and thereby nullifying, the word of God ? If 
one drop of corruption makes the purest water worthless, as the 
slightest savor of bitterness spoils the most delicate viands, how 
can it be that the word of truth and holiness can proceed profit- 
ably from impure lips and an earthly heart ? No, as is the tree, 
so is the fruit ; " beware of false prophets," says our Lord ; and 
then He adds, "from their fruits shall ye know them. Do men 
gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" Is it not so, my 
brethren? Which of you would go to ask counsel of another, 
however learned, however gifted, however aged, if you thought 
him unholy? nay, though you feel and are sure, as far as absolu- 
tion goes, that a bad priest could give it as really as a holy 
priest, yet for advice, for comfort, for instruction, you would not 
go to one whom you did not respect. " Out of the abundance of 
the heart, the mouth speaketh ;" "a good man out of the good 
treasure of his heart bringeth good, and an evil man out of the 
evil treasure bringeth forth evil." 

So then is it in the case of the soul ; and so is it with the body 
also ; as the offspring of holiness is holy in the instance of spirit 
tual births, so is it in the instance of physical. The child is like 



